404 Error
by VanillaSpiders
Summary: It's hard to unravel two consciousnesses from one mind. Dexter and Freakazoid know that better than anybody. But after a freak accident, one question remains: If Dexter was Freakazoid's humanity, and now they're split...where do Freak's morals lie now? COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: Freakazoid and Dexter talk in parenthesis. I want to take a moment to say a couple words. Dragon, goulashes and cornucopia. Also, thanks to my beta for editing this chapter so fast!  
Disclaimer: **_**Freakazoid!**_** and all related things belong to Stephen Spielberg. **

"_A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."_

_**Chapter 1**_

"_When everything is wrong I'll come talk to you, you make things alright when I'm feeling blue," -Weezer_

Today was a very strange day. And for God's sake, if it was a strange day for Freakazoid then it was intolerably, paralyzing weird for anyone else in the known universe.

It was equally weird that Freak was the first to sense something strange about today. If it was a weird enough day for _him_ to notice how off it was, then certainly his alter ego—or was he the alter ego?-well, the person who shared his brain named Dexter Douglas should have noticed too. Dexter wasn't nearly as much of a, well, a freak as Freakazoid was—even though he was the 'weird kid' by normal standards. Dexter was just a regular old teen. Well, no. He was smart. He played with his computers and he did well in class. And if that qualified him as a geek then Freakazoid was okay with that. He was Freakazoid's geek and that was all that mattered.

If liking computers made Dex a geek then Freakazoid supposed _he_ was a geek too.

And Dexter was currently engrossed in his note taking for his literature class this fine Fall day. This was a day that Freakazoid was pretty sure should be legally declared a school-free day because the air was crisp and cool and he just wanted to run around, or leap about, or just generally play in the sunshine because seriously. It wasn't like anybody could pay attention to such a boring class on such a pretty day. Freakazoid had _tried_ tuning in, he'd tried to listen, but the little old man with the funny combover was not someone Freakazoid was inclined to listen to even if he tried. So he did what he did best: he pestered Dexter while the poor young teen tried to take notes.

A while ago, Freakazoid had discovered a link to Dexter's half of their shared mind. He couldn't really leave the Freakazone, but he could tug at Dexter's side of their brain. At first it was only sharing emotions, and weakly at that—but it grew and morphed, and eventually they were fully able to share thoughts and even carry conversations. Their long-suffering mentor Roddy MacStew chalked it up to Freak's growing telepathic abilities. He had warned them both about overstraining the link—"Yer not supposed ta be two people, laddies!"—but so far Freakazoid had been the one to use it the most. It wasn't that Dexter didn't want to talk to his alter-ego; he did initiate conversations sometimes, at which Freakazoid would pretty much have kittens in his absolute joy. Freakazoid was just naturally a more talkative, extroverted person. Or the more extroverted, talkative side of Dexter. Or whatever they were. Freakazoid didn't mind.

In fact, if Freakazoid was any more extroverted, he'd probably have busted right out of the skinny geek's head by now and taken over the whole place. And made school on pretty fall days illegal.

As it was, he couldn't do that just yet, and at any rate it would probably hurt Dexter to try and burst out of their brain which probably didn't even make neurological sense because seriously—and hurting Dexter was an idea that Freakazoid was firmly antagonistic towards. And besides, he was having lots of fun pestering the other teen.

Despite seemingly _everyone_ else in Dexter's life, Freakazoid actually enjoyed his company.

(What's he talking about?) Freakazoid asked for the fourth time that class, peering out through Dexter's eyes, vaguely trying to watch before he withdrew back into the Freakazone, lying around on the sofa.

Dexter managed to make hissing in his thoughts a pretty effective sound. (Steven Pinker's book, The Better Angels: About Violence in History? …Remember?)

(Yeah. Wait. No.) The feeling of a mental shrug came from Freakazoid's side of their brain. Dexter sighed to himself, out in the real world. Here it _mattered_, things like homework and grades. In Freakazoid's world...not so much.

(Well, anyway, I'm supposed to be taking notes. You know Mr. Golding doesn't write things on the board.)

(What a weenie.)

Dexter smiled secretly. Despite Freak's slight insult, his teacher wasn't too bad. In fact this stuff was actually interesting.

"The real fascination of this book," the teacher said, "is how we got from being a species that enjoyed the spectacle of roasting each other alive to one that believes child-killers have the same rights as everyone else." Mr. Golding waited for the class to glance at each other. "You must be thinking: really? Did we really think that about such vile people? Yes."

(He should talk about superheroes. He should talk about _me_!) Dexter tried to ignore the too-chipper voice in his skull, but it proved useless when Freak switched topics with no warning as he was eternally prone to do and began rattling on and on about what they should do after class. Something about airplane noises.

"…What decides us between them is not virtue or vice but strategic calculation. We resort to violence when violence seems the better bet." Dexter nodded as he continued writing furiously, trying to combat the cheerful voice in-between his ears.

(Or we could go to the park and play with Foamy, or get a snow cone with Cosgrove, but I don't know if I want grape or lemon.) A pause. For a second Dexter had the crazy idea that maybe Freak would shut up. He was wrong. (I guess I could mix them. But gremon? Lape? No. Lape is too close to rape, I don't think—)

(_FREAKAZOID!_) All thought processes coming from Freak paused. It was the mental equivalent to Freak going still and staring down at him. Dexter looked down in frustration at his sloppy handwriting. It always got bad when he got distracted.

(Yes?) Dexter could almost feel Freak smile.

_(Be. Quiet.)_

"Pinker is adamant that we should _not_ be complacent about the decline of violence," Dexter's teacher continued on, "The inner demons are still there. But neither should we be fatalistic: as things stand, our better angels are a truer reflection of who we are….yes, Mr. Douglas?"

Dexter stared at him. Mr. Golding stared back.

"...What?"

"Did you have a question, Dexter?"

"Wha…" Dexter looked up to his hand raised. He swallowed and felt himself blush a deep red. (F-Freakazoid!) A crazed chuckle filtered through his thoughts, as unbidden as the involuntary muscle reaction was. His alter ego was—was _controlling_ him! Raising Dexter's hand! Dexter yanked back control of his body, shoving his hand back down.

(Ask about superheroes!) Freakazoid begged.

"Do you WANT me to get beat up after class?"

"...no, not really Mr. Douglas."

Dexter's face went the color of Freak's super suit. He hadn't realized he'd said that out loud. Freakazoid saw his chance and, instead of taking it, tackled it the ground and shoved forward.

"What about superheroes!" Dexter blurted out excitedly. He clapped a hand over his mouth, jostling his glasses as he glanced left at right and his snickering peers and sank lower down, attempting to either disappear or become an integral part of the uncomfortable chair below him.

Mr. Golding turned to fix a gaze on Dexter, who wilted under the man's glance as the class laughed around him and he tried to force down his arm. It went down finally to hang limp at his side, but Mr. Golding had to snap his ruler on his desk to quell the resurgence of laughter throughout the room.

"_Superheroes, _Mr. Douglas? Superheroes have hardly anything to do with the real world—with real _violence_. Now, if you would be _so kind_ as to_ pay attention_?"

"Yessir," Dexter mumbled quietly while in the back of his mind his alter ego sulked.

(Geez, he _is_ a weenie,) Freak snapped to no one in particular.

His teacher eyed him a moment longer, just a second, as if to see if the boy would have any more wild outbursts. When it was apparent he wasn't going to, the man continued, throwing himself into the theory of the book. Dexter tried extra hard this time to pay attention.

(Hey Dexter, did you know that dried yak dung is used as fuel in the treeless Tibetan plateaus? Isn't that weird!)

(Freakazoid, _please_, I need to pay attention-)

(And when Yaks mate they have to-)

"Freak, knock it _off _or I will break your—!" Dexter stopped dead as he stood before the class in the middle of his row, his body leaning toward an invisible person who only he could hear. The class stared. Some muttered and the poor girl closest to him looked frightened.

"Mr. Douglas? _Really?_ Do you have anything more to add to the discussion about _violence_?"

Several snickers were heard as the geek shook his head and clumsily clambered back into his chair. "N-no sir. Sorry."

"…Very well." The little portly man nodded to Dexter, a warning glint in his eyes as Dexter nodded beseechingly.

Mr. Golding straightened his hair, (Freakazoid giggled) and continued his speech on the book while scribbling pens picked up out of the silence. Mr. Golding glanced back at his class, stopping his sweeping gaze over Dexter, who was trying to look innocently intrigued by his teacher as an insane superhero rambled about kittens and peanut butter and soccer nets in his skull.

"Does our gradual move away from violence towards civility leave us better or _worse_ equipped to deal with the next great calamity when it comes?" No one raised their hands when they noticed he was asking a rhetorical question. "…No one can know."

After class, several of his classmates took precious time out of their day to congratulate Dexter on what a loser, geeky, lame-ass and retarded idiot he was. The ones who didn't say such things to Dexter simply ignored him altogether, and Dexter was eternally grateful to those people. As he tossed his notebook into his bag he tried to ignore the feeling of being hugged from behind as deep in his mind Freakazoid snuggled up to his half of their consciousness.

(…Sorry, Dexxy.)

'_Dexxy. The only one who has a nickname for me and it's basically myself.'_ Dexter was careful to keep that thought private.

(S'fine, Freak.) No, it was really the opposite of fine, but it wasn't like Freak could do anything about it. It wasn't his fault he was such a... freak.

(…I don't think you're a retarded idiot, you know. Or lame. Or a loser.)

(…What about geek?) Dexter probed as he left the class room as the bell rung shrilly, signaling the end of class. Hundreds of student milled about and around him, but none made a motion or a comment toward Dexter.None of them ever did.

Freak brightened up considerably, his bubbly self shining beneath Dexter's gloomy aura. (Well of _course_ you're a _geek—_but you're_ my _geek! That makes you a _special_ geek.)

Dexter sighed as he walked out the front door of his school in the fall air, seeing a familiar Squad car sitting in the school's pick up and drop off lot.

(Of course it does, Freakazoid.) Dexter thought back, and he could almost feel how exhausted his own thoughts were. Freakazoid noticed the cop car after that and immediately swelled up inside him, eager to be let out but patiently waiting, like always.

Today was a _very_ strange day. And, knowing Freakazoid, it was only going to get stranger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: Find Emmit Nevrend twice in this fanfiction. **

"_**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**_

_**Chapter 2 **_

"_I'm ready to go, get me out of my mind, get me out of my mind!" _–Panic and the Disco

No one ever said the life of a hero was all glamour.

Sure, Captain America had a nice outfit, Tony Stark got all the chicks, but in the end they both had crappy jobs and so did Freakazoid and, by association, Dexter.

If anything, Dexter thought it was just as tiring as a normal job even if he wasn't in the driver's seat when Freak was doing the saving. It was a normal job with the added perks of waking up sore and stiff and with foreign-feeling memories you didn't remember making. But it was what Freakazoid _did_, for better or for worse. It was who he _was. _And who would Dexter be to take that away from the hero? No matter how insane he really was. Dexter couldn't even blame Freakazoid for that—it was Dexter who'd activated the flaw in the chip those few years ago (well actually it was his cat, but it was his fault the cat was in his room) and it was Dexter who'd been sucked into the internet and it was his brain that all the information on the web was poured into.

But it was Freakazoid who'd appeared from all the stress he was under and saved Dexter, really, and instead of taking off the second he was created to run off to some distant land, to lead his own life—Freakazoid had somehow managed to get the both of them back, in one piece, to the house on Finickulee Finickulye street while Dexter swam in a sea of confusion in his own mind, rapidly losing and gaining thoughts that weren't even his own.

"Gotta call in tip, kid. Need ya to come stake out a warehouse that ol' Arms Akimbo may be using."

"Hey, Cosgrove," Dexter tried, only for the older man to nod and a half smile. Coming from Cosgrove, that form of greeting was like a kiss on the cheek in any other person's book.

"You coming?" Cosgrove was already looking up at him from the driver's seat of his squad car. Dexter nodded and clambered in, knowing he couldn't switch places with Freakazoid in such a public place. Dexter barely had his buckle in before the car took off, and when it was a block away and out of sight from the students of Harry Connick High, the sirens went on and Dexter leaned back into the seat, letting out a gust of breath as he gathered his wits for the oncoming barrage.

He clamped his eyes shut. "….Freak out!" Dexter cried, and the world spun and shifted behind his eyes.

Freakazoid unfurled from him at the words, changing the once timid geek into a taller, stronger, and _insaner_ human form, complete in super suit with a bright yellow logo of the first letter of his name and an exclamation point. Dexter's shaggy brown hair grew and shot backwards into pitch black locks that nearly stood up straight. A white bolt of lightning on either side completed the look, and if that wasn't enough, Dexter's porcelain complexion changed into a blue shade, more inhuman than even the hair suggested.

Freakazoid looked around at the passing cityscape, eager and excited to be alive and going this fast, even if the Freakmobile could've gotten them there in half the time.

"Are we there yet?" Freakazoid asked the cop, who was used to the abrupt and all around _massive_ change in the boy, and hadn't even jumped when Freakazoid first shot forth.

"Almost," came the deadpan reply from Cosgrove, who was driving in a slow and responsible and thoroughly boring manner.

Freakazoid jiggled in his seat, looking for all the world a little kid on his way to the toy store. "Ugh, Cosgrove, you wouldn't beLIEVE it!"

"Mhm."

"Dexter's teacher is _so_ boring! And such a _weenie!_ He wouldn't even talk about super heroes when he talked about violence! …Or cops."

"Is that so?" Cosgrove answered amiably as he switched lanes, moving the speeding vehicle past a minivan.

"Yes! And then-" Freakazoid continued to rattle on about his day, half speaking for himself and half for Dexter because the boy never got to tell _anyone_ about his day so _someone_ had to do it for him. He knew Dexter could hear him as he retold their day and he knew it was making Dexter feel special. And yeah, he apologized for getting his Dexxy in trouble.

"Here we are," Cosgrove interrupted, slamming on the brakes. The car squeaked to a halt in front of the warehouse.

The sudden change in subject failed to throw Freak off. "Alright! Time to go in there! And give Akimbo a piece of my mind!" He paused. "Actually several pieces! And my fist!" Freakazoid giggled gleefully as Cosgrove put the car in park in front of the old, dilapidated building, and Freak shoved himself out of the car with all the speed he could.

"TRUTH, JUSTICE and the AMERICAN WAY!" Freakazoid flung his body into a heroic pose before the building doors.

"I thought that's what Superman stands for."

Freakazoid looked down at the crouching cop, a pout on his blue lips. "Cosgrove," Freak whined, "don't ruin my moment!"

"Alright, sorry." Cosgrove didn't sound particularly regretful. "Go get 'em, kiddo."

Instantly Freak brightened up. "_Right_!" And with that, he bounded up, taking off like a bullet and tackling the door down, locks and bolts be damned.

_He_ had a _villain_ to catch!

_**F!**_

Freakazoid watched Arms Akimbo get shoved in the back of Cosgrove's squad car with a look of utter boredom and disgust. That had gone far less exciting than expected, _really_.

"Just standing there with your hands on your sides! Giving yourself up to us!" Freakazoid burst out as Akimbo was loaded into the car. "Really! That's not how it _goes!"_

"Hey Freakazoid, you wanna go get a turkey sub?"

Freak looked at Cosgrove mid-rant. Despite being interrupted, he looked ecstatic. _"DO I?"_

"Okay, but first go see if there's anything else in that old warehouse, kid, we need evidence for this….to see what Akimbo was stealing _this_ time."

"Kay, Cosgrove!" the hero trilled as he took off for the broken-open double doors, eager to be done with this case and get his delicious turkey sub...

(Freakazoid…?) Freak almost looked around. He wasn't used to Dexter trying to talk to him when he was in control, much less when he was being a hero and doing heroic things. But Freakazoid liked any chance to talk to Dexter, and he responded with a quick expression of questioning, pushing it across his mind like a hand in water, making a wave that could crash on the shore of their shared brain.

Freak can feel... fear coming from Dexter. (Something doesn't feel right.)

At this, Freakazoid blinked in surprise, the only thing that changed on his facial features as he stepped back into the darkened warehouse.

(Dexxy, I told you not to get the lasagna for lunch.)

(Not like that, Freakazoid!)

"Look, Akimbo's in the car, all we gotta do is round off the stuff and then we can go out for Gremon snow cones! I'll even change back so you can taste some!" Freakazoid chirped cheerily to himself, forgetting to think his thoughts to Dexter as he cast a glance around the wall by the double doors he'd walked through. "I swear, Akimbo's such a tool, he probably stole from a grocery store or a home for homeless people!"

(Then they wouldn't be homeless people, Freakazoid. If they had a home.) Dexter reminded him from the back of his mind. (You mean shelter.)

"What do you think he took this time? Like a whole feast or something?" Freakazoid was already on another tangent. Surprisingly, Dexter kept up. "Like chicken and ham and turkey slices and…apples and…what else do they have at picnics, Dexter?" Freakazoid asked a wall he passed by, running his glove along it in hopes to find a switch.

(Like that green stuff with those little marshmallows?)

"Yeah. What do they call that?"

(That green stuff with those little marshmallows.)

"Oh." Freakazoid looked around. Where _was_ that light switch…?

(Freak-)

"Not now, Dexxy." Freakazoid calmly interjected, his tone oddly serious as he focused on finding some light to see by. "When I find that silly little light switch then I'll-"

Just as Freakazoid turned around to see a massive, sparking hole in the place where the switch plate used to be, the lights went out as something glowed bright in the corner of the warehouse. "What the-?"

(FREAK!)

Above him, lights clicked on, illuminating him a bright circle of yellow light. He stared up at them as something whirred and hummed in the corner, finally shrieking to power and letting loose a beam of light.

"What-?"

Freakazoid watched the bright stream in curiosity, ignoring Dexter who was having a heart attack in the back of his head, and he had no time to move or duck out of the way in time. It moved at a speed remarkably faster than him and just as Freakazoid was wondering about it, it hit him.

He gave a shout in pain, and everything went black.

_**F!**_

"...azoid?"

...What? Where was he? What…that wasn't Cosgrove's voice, why...

"Freakazoid? …Freakazoid, wake up…"

The hero groaned, struggling to open his eyes and blinking a bit to correct his vision, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes. When he withdrew his hands he saw that above him, eyes wide behind his glasses and filled with worry, was his other half.

He, _they_, were in the Freakazone, he realized. If the smell of stale popcorn and the tv blaring Rat Patrol was anything to go by. _"Dexter?"_ Dexter nodded in confirmation, chewing his lip and sitting back on the Freakazone's couch. Freakazoid watched him then made a move to sit up on his own, hissing when his stomach muscles pulled. They felt broken, or at the very least bruised anyway. Muscles couldn't break, could they? Jeez, it sure felt like it. "Guhh….what happened?" Freak asked as he leaned into the cushions of his couch.

Dexter shrugged, looking worried and scared all at once. "Dunno. I never know what's going on when we switch….it more like falling asleep then waking up for me-"

Freak shook his head, partly to clear his thoughts and partly to stop Dexter. "Then how did you get to the Freakazone?" As far as he knew, Dexter had never found his way to this side of their mind before, not including the time that Freakazoid had carried Dexter there when the geek had fallen ill from a computer virus he'd contracted from Freak.

At this Dexter glanced away, looking embarrassed and shy under his glasses. "Well….I heard you yelling, like you got hurt." The geek went a bit red and he mumbled. "Jus' wanted to see if you were all right…"

Freakazoid smiled at that, not his crazed one, or his sneering one, but a genuine smile at the care and worry coming from Dexter's side of their mental link. "Aww, thanks, Dexxy. You _do_ care!"

Dexter grumbled nonsensical things as he stood up from the couch and moved over the closed, oval shaped windows at the far end of the Freakazone. Freakazoid stood up and followed him after a second, watching Dexter gently brush his fingertips against one of his 'eyes.'

"What do you think happened?" Dexter asked softly, looking down.

"Me? I think Akimbo cheated is what he did, and he had another accomplice he didn't tell us about!" Freakazoid spoke up, feeling incredibly wronged. "That guy is _such_ a weenie!" Freakazoid's gloved hands made a motion to punch an invisible enemy in front of him.

Dexter chuckled, glancing back at Freakazoid. "Yeah. Well. He _is_ a villain."

Freakazoid shrugged. "You're right, but anyway, it'll be fine."

At this, Dexter looked surprised. "What? We both just got knocked out and you're so…so slack about it?"

Freak crossed his arms over his head and stared back at Dexter. "Well, why not? I'm the hero." He shot his alter ego a toothy grin. "Heroes always win, Dexter!"

Dexter almost scoffed, because yes, they did. In comic books and on television. This was much different and they both knew it. "Freakazoid, you—Freakazoid?"

The super hero had gone slack jawed and still, his pupils dilating eerily as one great big convulsion shook the Freakazone like an earthquake.

"What's that?" Dexter shouted, and then Freakazoid screamed.

Pain. It was like….it was _beyond_ pain. It was a whole new level of pain. It was twelve migraines plus eleven marching bands and five golden nails getting hammered into his body. It hurt like he was being torn in two from the inside out, from the back of his skull and down his spine and it was pain that was pulling at him, tugging, forcing him to leave Dexter—wait, leave?

For the first time in his life, Freakazoid couldn't think. He couldn't process enough information to figure out what was going on with him and all he knew was _fear_ because he felt Dexter being pulled away from him, his sight was gone, it had faded out from the pain and he could only just manage to scream the _ex_ in Dexter's name because he could feel their link straining and god it hurt so badly it felt like it was going to _break-_

He felt his body crumple as the Freakazone rumbled eerily, the ground shaking, and a rushing noise sounded in his ears.

And he could just barely hear Dexter calling his name sounding fainter and fainter and then he can just barely feel him through their link. "Freakazoid? _Freakazoid_!"

And then Dexter could not form words and he let out a scream that made Freakazoid's blood run cold as it followed him into oblivion for the second time that day.

_**F!**_

"Kid? Kid, are you alright?"

"Gnh…" He could not speak. His throat was raw. He could hear Cosgrove, alright, but..._ man_…he was far away. Freakazoid tried to open his eyes, it felt like they were tied down with graphite bars, they were so heavy, and he flopped his head in the direction he heard his friend's voice come from.

Cosgrove was leaning over the form of another something lying on the cool cement a few feet away from him, both of them cast in the shadows of the building, all the lights gone again but a streetlight a distance off. Freakazoid couldn't get his throat to work or his heavy limbs to move to get Cosgrove's attention.

Another…_body_?

"Dexter? Can you hear me, kiddo?"

And then the graphite bars were too heavy and his eyes slammed shut again and he fell into darkness, _not_ the Freakazone, before his mind let him figure out what those words meant.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: Most chapters, unless specified otherwise, will start up right where the other one left off. Like there won't even be a break. Thanks! **

**SPECIAL: This chapter is dedicated to pointyears, my beta, FOR KICKING ME OUT OF MY WRITER'S BLOCK FOR THIS CHAPTER. LIKE LEGIT. She saved this whole fucking thing from crashing and burning. **

"_A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."__****_

Chapter 3 

"You see the patterns in the big sky? Those constellations look like you and I, the tiny pattern and the bigger guy….I don't know whether I should laugh or cry." –Sting

_Dexter could feel it like it was happening all over again. Freakazoid's arms wrapped tight around him, tighter than he had any time before, practically clenching as he held Dexter firmly flush against his body, as if he was afraid that if he let go he'd lose him. He buried his face into __his__ human's brown hair, inhaling deeply and furrowing his eyebrows._

(I almost** lost** you_.) The thought came unbidden from Freak's side of the link, coupled with anxiety and an odd sense of despondency that Dexter was surprised to feel from his normally confident, carefree alter-ego, and it hit him hard._

_(Don't __**wanna**__ lose you.) _

_"You big dummyhead, Dexter-don't you get it!" Freak pulled back to look into Dexter's eyes, his blue gaze searching. Dexter could feel the words before Freak said them but god, he wanted to hear them anyway. "You're-"_

"-going to wake him up, laddy! Just leave him be, he needs all the rest 'e can get for Crud's sake-"

A voice broke through Dexter's mind, yanking him back from sleep. It wasn't Freak's voice, the thick Scottish brogue was enough to tell him that—and though Dexter couldn't properly hear the muffled words, they were obvious protests. His dream shattered into pieces he would never remember, fragments from his memory after that computer virus fiasco that had nearly killed him and Freak both. As he blearily stared up at the ceiling of his room, Dex relaxed a bit, despite being awakened so suddenly—when he realized that all was well. He was in his bedroom, and Freakazoid was—

'_Wait. Something's not right. Something…'_ Something was missing. _Someone _was missing. There, lying on top of his comforter, in his house, in his bedroom, Dexter Douglas felt oddly lightheaded, like after the very worst times Duncan had beaten the lights out of him times ten. And what did he do during those times? He called Freakazoid. And that's what he tried to do.

(F...Freak...?)

There was no response.

He scrambled into a sitting position, blinking, opening his eyes and running his hands through his hair as he tried to call harder, louder. (FREAK!) He waited for the bubbly wave of emotion to hit him from the other side of his mind, but it did not come.

'_Freakazoid? Freakazoid, where are you—what happened—'_ Dexter's panic rose and bubbled right over as he sat up bolt upright, the memory of Freak's cry of pain before they'd blacked out hitting him like a freight train and he instantly feared the worst, convinced his best friend, a part of him, had been brutally ripped from him forever and now he was utterly _alone_ and worthless and—

"_**FREAKAZOID**_**!"**

The voices outside his bedroom door stopped at his panicked yell. Then an entirely different noise, a muffled grunt and the sound of the door being thrown carelessly open as a teenager with stringy, hanging black hair barreled through the frame. Whoever the person was, he was calling Dexter's name, his face twisted into worry. Dexter stared at the teen, his tall body covered in a bright red t-shirt with a black circle in the middle of his chest.

That shade. It was familiar. Something in the back of his mind prickled. That shade of red. Something—no. It couldn't be. That was insane.

Of course, his life was insane.

The teen's red Converse sunk slightly into the too-plush carpet of Dexter's room as he stood before the skinnier geek. **"**_Dexter_! Dexter, are you okay, buddy," the stranger asked as he took a worried step forward. "Are you okay, are you sure you're okay?"

Dexter stared up at the stranger who stood before him, his mouth open. The guy stared back down with just as much interest, his eyes shining with an almost eerie intensity. He clearly wanted nothing more than either hug Dexter or ask him a hundred different questions at once, but he seemed to be holding himself back, albeit barely.

Dexter got his words out after the first wave of shock passed and he trembled like a leaf there on the bed. He blinked harder and rubbed his eyes. "W-Who _are_ you?"

The teen, taller than him and much _much _more sturdily-built, moaned irately and rolled his eyes but _affectionately, _moving closer to Dexter, smiling. "Dexter! Dexxy, it's _me_!"

He almost fainted again. Only one person on the entire _planet_ called him that. The second wave crashed into Dexter as he noticed the blue tint to his skin, the two stark white streaks in the black mop and the smaller-than-average pupil size.

It couldn't be. That was insane.

"…._Freakazoid_?"

Yeah, okay. So maybe he could deal with insane.

Looking ecstatic and perhaps like he was about to break into a musical number, Freakazoid nodded, opening his mouth as Roddy MacStew stomped in from the hall. The Scotsman's hat was askew like it had been shoved back onto his head quickly, and he grunted angrily to Freakazoid. "Next time ye feel like tossin' things 'round, boy, _don't do it in the direction of the cruddy stairs!"_

Freakazoid had enough sanity to look sheepish. Dexter thought vaguely that it was nice that at least there was a shred of sanity left in the world. "Sorry, Roddy."

"...F-Freak?" Dexter's mind, for all its brilliancy and sharpness, could not wrap around the idea that standing before him was _him_. Although that could have been because Freakazoid was suddenly very much in front of him and handing him the glasses that had been sitting on the bedside. Dexter put them on with shaky hands.

"Yep! That's me! Your one and only!" Freak chirped. "Great ta see you! I mean, I've seen you before but never like this, you know, like, not in front of you like this, pretty cool huh, sort of like that time when-"

Dexter's—Freakazoid's—no, _their_ mentor moved over to sit on the bed beside him, Freakazoid moving closer as well to stand by Dexter and smile down at him. A hand clapped on Dexter's shoulder as the geek whipped his head over to look at the Scotsman, his eyes wide behind his glasses, searching for answers.

Roddy MacStew opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then sighed as Freakazoid rambled on about a variety of things ranging from bladder-chewing guppies to edible clothing. Dexter waited patiently. Freak's leg started bouncing up and down as he leaned back on one hip, finally slowing before his monologue ceased.

"You done, laddy?" Roddy asked wearily, rubbing his forehead.

"Uh, yeah. I'll tell ya if I feel another soliloquy coming on."

"Please do." Roddy finally looked up and made tentative eye contact with Dexter, and began a shaky explanation of what happened. "Lad—I mean... Lads, what happened here, well, I don' honestly think I can say fer sure. Yer jus', Cosgrove found ye both lying on the floor o' that, that—"

"Akimbo's hideout," Freakazoid offered instantly.

"-Aye," Roddy nodded. "All out of it ye both were, I suppose. The good man got 'yo back to yer house, Dexter, and called me. I came over as quick as I could lad but by tha' time the Freak had already woken up on the couch in yer livin' room and was itchin' to see you, an, as yer can see you waking up and yelling all like that only served to fuel him more." He shot a scathing look at Freakazoid, who smiled innocently at him and grinned toothily, hands jammed into his jean pockets.

"Oh?" Dexter asked, feeling thoroughly dazed. His alter ego, his other half, his own SELF was standing before him. Wait. No, he wasn't.

That was sudden. And then- "F-Freakazoid _what_-!" Then Dex was scooped up in a big hug by Freakazoid whose muscles appeared to be just as powerful as before. Dex wasn't sure about the super strength, but at least Freak's personality hadn't changed one iota. That was something to be grateful for—wasn't it?

"I'm so glad you're okay, Dexxy!" Seemingly pleased with Dexter being safe and whole before him, Freak opened his arms and Dex dropped a couple inches back to the ground, steadying himself with awkwardly waving arms for a moment before he looked back up at Freak. The hero had retained his heroic height, sure enough, easily a foot taller than Dexter.

"Yeah, you too, F-Freakazoid." Dexter was really kind of glad Freak hadn't changed. Yeah, he was more than really glad. Especially after that scream. God, he never wanted to hear that again, but it sounded like it had been enough to change anyone, super or not.

Roddy coughed and stood. "Now that yer awake, Dexter m'boy, and seem none to worse for the wear," Roddy took in the boys rumpled clothes, but that was mostly Freak's fault anyway after that rambunctious hug, and took a little note of the smaller boy's pale complexion. "I'll be takin' my leave."

Dexter startled at this. Leaving him alone? With Freakazoid? "What! Why?" Dexter asked, trying to ignore the long blue fingers that were straightening the tilted glasses on his nose. He almost swatted the hands away but thought better of it. Swatting Freak away didn't work in his head so why would it work in the real world?

"Well lad, yer both functioning fine o'nough, an' I want ter go into the internet and see if I can' find anything on yer…._situation_."

Dexter's shoulders sagged at this. MacStew wasn't their mentor for nothing, and if anyone could figure out what the heck was going on….he could. Roddy MacStew designed the Pinnacle Chip. He knew it in and out, and he knew Freakazoid. The only one who knew him better was probably Dexter himself and _he_ certainly didn't have internet-skating capabilities.

"While I'm glad the two of ye are getting along all pink and dandy—yer not supposed to be two people, lad. The Chip made Freak, and it made Freak _fer_ you." Roddy jabbed a stubby finger into the air at Dex to emphasize his point. Freak beamed at him, staying silent for once when Dex looked from himself up to Roddy then up to Freakazoid.

"Stick together, boys," he said quietly. "I'll be back."

Dexter sighed and nodded gently. He had to be a man about this. "O-okay, Roddy."

"Good luck to ye lads, the minute I know something, I swear, by the soiled trousers of Argus I'll be back and let ye know, aye?"

"Kay, Roddy!" Freak saluted him.

"Okay, Roddy. Thank you."

Their stern but amiable mentor was gone into Dexter's computer with a flash, and Freakazoid watched the scene in awe for a moment then whirled around back to Dexter, staring down at the geek who had perched himself cross legged on his bed, pointy knees puncturing the air as he stared aimlessly down at his sheets. But Dexter soon enough felt the hero's gaze boring holes into the top of his head and looked up.

Freak's gaze was wide-eyed, earnest. Dexter ducked his shoulders shyly, like a snail trying to withdraw into its shell. A neuron kicked Dex's brain in gear when he realized Freakazoid was heading over to him and he almost flinched back but caught himself. This was Freakazoid, the nerd reminded himself. In his head or no, Freak would never hurt Dexter, especially not intentionally. It just wasn't what superheroes _do_.

So why was he so scared? He wasn't—he shouldn't be scared of his alter ego. There was nothing—there was nothing scary_ about_ him. He was just a big puppy. He always had been. And he always will be.

He blamed the tingle in the back of his skull on the sudden lack of alter ego.

"Dexter….are you okay?" His volume was down a couple notches and for a moment Freakazoid looked concerned.

Freakazoid was nothing if not a superhero. "Y...yeah, I am, Freak. Why?"

"Cause you look weird." …Oh, Freakazoid, great superhero-ing skills.

"I'm okay, yeah," Dexter's head bobbed as he answered, and he obligingly scooted over to allow room on the twin bed for Freakazoid. The teen immediately plopped down next to him with a noise of what Dexter could only take as utter _glee, _like a squirrel who'd just discovered a previously forgotten stockpile of peanuts.

Then they heard it.

Dexter sat up slowly as heels clicked down the hall and his doorknob twisted. He tensed, fearing the worst. Beside him, Freakazoid picked up on the subtle changes to Dexter's body and went on guard as well, ready to move in front of Dexter should it be anything horribly terrifying and thre-

"Hello Dexter dear, just came home from the supermarket!" Dexter jumped to his feet and Freak's shoulder relaxed at the sight of Dex's mom standing in his doorway.

Dexter however, looked disappointed and absolutely petrified it wasn't a monster they could silence. "H-hi mom!" he squeaked out. His mother's vacant smile was then suddenly directed at the blue teen perched on her youngest son's bed. Dexter didn't blame her-Freakazoid did kind of stand out.

"Oh? And who's this young man?"

Dexter's throat closed up. He hadn't taken any time to think about an explanation for Freak about his parents. Split or not, Freak was still Dexter's alter-ego. And Freak's true identity as being Dexter Douglas was still something that _had_ to be protected.

What could he say?

"He's, uh, he's-"

"I'm his best friend!" Freakazoid chirped from Dex's bed.

Dexter's heart stopped but his brain instantly supplied 'he doesn't mean it, idiot' and so Dexter only swallowed the blockage in his throat and nodded dumbly in a show of agreement.

"Ooh, how lovely, dear!" His mother gave another shining, empty smile. "I didn't know Dexter had any friends!"

Dexter's heart sunk to his feet and shattered. The words were hurtful but said without malice and somehow that made it ten times worse. And the thing was? His mom was speaking the truth.

"R-right. Uh…he's spending the night, if that's-"

"Oh, of course dear, of course. Blue friends are better than none at all, I always say."

_You've never said that in your life, Mom._

"Well, you missed dinner, the both of you, but if you're hungry there's cold chicken in the refrigerator. Help yourself, boys!" Mrs. Douglas stepped out of the room, smiling that plastic smile at them.

"Thanks, Mom."

She was out the door. They were almost home-free.

"You have fun now!"

"Kay Mo—" Freakazoid started, then stopped himself. Dexter whipped his head over at Freakazoid, his expression terrified, god, that was—that could have been bad. Freakazoid clamped his mouth shut suddenly and choked out a rough "Mrs. Douglas."

Dexter's mom didn't notice the slipup, god, she didn't notice _anything, _and shut the door with a click and Dexter fell back on his bed, emotionally winded from that entire thing that just happened. A headache was forming in between his eyes. He moaned. It was late. There wasn't any time to figure anything out.

This was bad.

A blue head of stringy black hair swung into Dex's vision as Freak kneeled on the bed by his head and looked down at him, big eyes wide with childish curiosity.

"…Can I help you?" Dexter mumbled tiredly, his palms facing up when his body had flung itself down onto the mattress.

"I don't know. Probably," Freakazoid answered in a tone that was seriously honest as he seemed to consider things. "You can do lots of smart things, Dexter. If you want us back together I know you'll figure it out."

"…Do you…" Dexter bit his lip, looking through his crooked glasses and out from under his hanging bangs. "Do you _want_ us to be?"

Freakazoid blinked, head tilted and that just made Dexter ramble on, tripping over whatever words spilled out his mouth. "Get back together I mean, if you want to that's okay but if you _don't_ that's okay too cause I understand you're probably _really happy_ and stuff to have your own body and not be stuck in me all the time cause-" His words ran together, slurring into one giant line. "Cause we all know I'm useless and stuff and not at all like-"

"Stop that." Freak's eyebrows slammed together and he lifted Dex up with one arm behind his back. "You're not useless, Dexter." Freakazoid moved to sit beside him, one leg tucked under himself and the other dangling over the bed. He shot Dexter a look and his next words were a scolding tone. "You're freaking brilliant Dexxy," he took a moment to chuckle at his own pun, "and just because we're now…two people instead of one doesn't make you any less awesome. It just leaves more room for that awesome to take over now that I'm not in your head!"

It was hard to argue with such cheerful sounding logic, so Dex ducked his head and nodded quietly. "Alright, anyway, but did you want to uh. Go?" Dexter managed out, his heart screaming louder than his analytical brain, _'No, no no please say no please don't go you're….you're all I got I think…'_

Freakazoid stared at him like he'd just grown about four extra eyeballs. "No. Noooooooo no way, Jose. I'm not gonna go." Freakazoid peered earnestly at Dexter from under his messy bangs, and Dexter wondered if Freakazoid could still read his mind. But he didn't _feel_ Freak.

"You're all I got!" Freakazoid stated this fact so happily it hardly seemed like a bad thing.

"I-_what_?" Dexter deadpanned.

"You're. All. I've got, Dexter." Freakazoid spoke slowly in case Dex had become inexplicably dumb for a minute, and Freak hoped it didn't last. He hoped Dexter closed his mouth before any flies flew in.

"I….what?" Dexter responded brilliantly.

Freakazoid made put dramatic effort in sighing exasperatedly, but his easy going smile was still in place. "You're allllll I got. Uno. One. Only Dexter in the world, and you're mine! How cool is that! Why would I leave? I got all I need right here, food, video games, you, Mr. Chubbikins, you, Duncan as a punching bag—"

Dexter fought a smile on his face at the Duncan part, and tried to shut out the happiness his stomach felt at being mentioned twice as Freakazoid ticked things off his fingers.

Surely Freakazoid had just lost count and didn't mean to mention him twice. Dexter wasn't worth that much. _'He did call you his best friend,' _a voice admitted quietly in his head. Dexter choose to ignore it for the time being.

"I…" Freakazoid turned to look at Dexter expectantly. Dexter's heart leapt to his throat and swelled.

"I'm, I'm gonna go get ready for bed." Dexter announced feebly as he scuttled out of the room. Freakazoid, caught mid-sentence in his sorting of whether pie was the fourteenth most important thing in his life or if it was cake, blinked at Dexter's hurried rush out of the room. After a moment, Freak laughed a bit at his other half's antics when he was sure Dexter couldn't hear him.

Dexter made it to the bathroom, rubbing the heat from his face as he hastily gathered his wits and his pajamas. Freakazoid had only called him his best friend as an explanation for his mother. Dexter was sure, one hundred percent, that if prompted from anyone else when the situation didn't call for it, Freakazoid would label Dexter nothing more than a geek who'd he'd been forced into by a twisted turn of events and poor timing.

Right. Dexter spit his toothpaste into the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror moodily but he quickly got tired of staring at himself—who wouldn't get tired of staring at him, anyway. Self-deprecation was an art form, and Dexter had all A's in that area.

After changing in the bathroom, Dexter moved to the hall closet and twisted the knob, peering inside for the spare futon so Freak wouldn't have to sleep on the couch, or his bedroom floor.

"Where….Ah- there you are," Dexter grumbled, tugging its side strap harshly. It barely budged.

"Gah…c'mere you stupid….heavy…._thing_," Dexter didn't realize he was talking to the futon till Freakazoid chuckled from behind him, and Dexter whirled around, startled, the futon giving way and nearly hitting the back of Dexter's head, had a gloved hand not shot up and caught it. Dexter blushed and scrambled out of the way of Freak, who was smiling at him and clearly waiting for him to move.

Freakazoid took the futon from the closet and easily hefted it up. "Roddy sent us an email! He says I lost my powers cause of Akimbo's machine-thingy, but that they might come back, isn't that cool?" Freakazoid chirped as he carried the mattress down the hall.

Dexter smiled. "Very cool." _'So his super-strength __**is**__ gone….but he's still got physical skills from his crime-fighting, I'm sure.' _Dexter took careful note of the state his alter-ego was in, anything that might help their mentor figure out what had happened to them.

There was a delighted noise as Freak dropped the mattress off center and slightly under Dexter's window in his room.

"So I can see the stars!" Freakazoid explained happily without prompt from Dexter.

Dexter grinned at Freak's tone and threw him some blankets and a pillow he'd grabbed from the closet before they'd headed back to his room. Freakazoid took great delight in the leaf pattern on one of the throws and tackled his new bed with fervor, burrowing under his makeshift covers with a delighted noise from the back of his throat.

"This is great, thank you, Dexxy!" The superhero nestled down, lying on his back, hands tucked underneath his head. "You're the best!"

"No problem….Good night, Freakazoid," Dexter said without thinking as he took of his glasses on the table and set them on his bedside table.

"Night!"

Dexter flicked off his bedside lamp, shot a fond smile into the dark in Freak's direction, then got comfortable himself. Lying in the darkness with his alter-ego still somewhere close by wasn't as good as how'd they'd been just a night ago but it was honestly better than what Dexter had first imagined when he'd woken up earlier that afternoon.

Dexter frowned sleepily as his brain slowed and his body started falling asleep. Just….just how important was Freak to him? Very, he guessed. Too much. He couldn't believe the amazing superhero thought of him, _Dexter Douglas_ as his best friend.

Then again, Freak was his best friend, wasn't he?

_didn't know Dexter had any friends_

_Dexter had any friends_

_Dexter had friends._

Oh. Oh well. These thoughts… were…for another day… "Hey, Dexter?" came a voice from the dark.

"…Wha'sit Freakazoid." Dexter mumbled sleepily out into his pillow. Oh well. Maybe sleep could wait.

"Sleep….sleep is good for you, right?"

"Yeah, Freak," he mumbled. "Like charging a battery."

"But... The last time I slept I had those images about Gutierrez."

_'The last time…? Oh,'_ Dex's sleepy mind hazily focused on the idea. _'Freakazoid must not have needed sleep before. Makes sense. I did all the sleeping for us, usually.' _

"…Mhn." Dexter rolled over sleepily in the dark. "You won't. Not this time."

"Kay."

There were a couple glorious moments of silence, until Freak's voice cut through the night again. "Dexter?" It made it across the room but bounced off Dexter's sleeping skull, then poked him.

"…Hm?" Dexter's voice was lower and his response time was slower, like he was thinking through molasses.

"…You promise?"

It took a moment for Dexter's sleep-fogged brain to catch up. "….Yeah."

"…That I can stay forever?" Freakazoid breathed out softly then held his breath again.

"Mhm." The geek answered automatically, breathing evening out. Dexter was dead asleep by that time, but it was enough for Freakazoid, who rolled over himself looked out Dexter's window into the starlit night, finally settling down for the first time in his life.

This was insane.

Maybe insane wasn't so bad.

**Feedback is like getting little itty bitty kittens in my email box. So please, send me kittens! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta for both rping parts of this with me, and then looking it's sorry ass over when I thought it was done. ****God okay DIS CHAPTER. Was so long. I apologize for that—and it probably won't happen again. Not foreseeing some insane insomnia again, that made me keep going with this damn thing. **

"_A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."_

_**Chapter 4  
**_

"_I never had to knock on wood, and I'm glad I haven't yet, because I'm, sure it isn't good, that's the impression that I get. " –_Mighty Mighty Bosstones

The next morning, the sun peeked over the horizon and tried to make a run for it. It was stopped, however, by a wonderful gloomy rainstorm that pelted the windows of the Douglas household and soaked the surrounding city pretty damn well.

Curled up under his futon (with no idea how he actually managed to crawl _beneath_ it during the night), a sleepy Freakazoid rolled over and groaned when the pitter-pattering became too obnoxious to ignore. His rumbling stomach was equally as impossible to ignore. Since he had his bed by the window, rain and wind was all Freakazoid could hear. He mentally searched for his internal clock, the clock that had been connected to the internet, the clock that told him the exact date and time of anywhere he damn well wanted to know.

…This time, all his brain feebly gave him was that it _might_ have been seven or eight or seven thirty-ish-maybe-possibly, but _really_ he had no clue at all.

_That_ would take some getting used to.

"Gnh," he said intelligently, "Dexter….Dexter make the rain g'way…" The once-super hero tossed and turned for another moment beneath his futon (seriously, how did he get there?) propping himself up on his elbows so he could see Dexter's bed across the room when he cracked open one heavy eye-lid.

The bed was empty. It was made to perfection, but it. Was. _Empty_.

Freak briefly looked under it. There was nobody there, either.

Instantly awake, Freakazoid scrambled out from under the futon, leapt to his feet and, without making the bed, flung open Dexter's bedroom door and took the stairs down two at a time.

_**F!**_

Dexter was interrupted in sipping his orange juice by the sudden skid of feet on linoleum. He looked up and found himself staring into Freakazoid's eyes; the ex-superhero looked alarmed, blue eyes blown wide and hair a total disaster. Freak stared at him for a second over the rim of his glass, still breathing hard. Dexter lowered the glass cautiously and returned Freak's stare with wide eyes. "Uh... you okay?"

"_There_ you are!" Freakazoid exclaimed happily, his indoor voice the same volume as his outside voice. "I was looking for you! You scared me, buddy!"

"Good….morning?" Dexter tried weakly. He wasn't used to people looking for him. It wasn't like Freakazoid ever had to _look_ for him before; the guy was always with him. Dexter mulled this over as he watched Freak prance over to the refrigerator door with a hand over his stomach.

Freakazoid relaxed instantly upon finding Dexter. "Good morning to you too, Dexxy!" He peered blankly at the fridge for a second, examining the collection of magnets. "….I'm hungry!" Freakazoid chirped as he yanked open the door. If he still had his super strength, the door would have been in danger of being pulled right off its hinges and Freak would have been covered in the condiments and dressings that were kept in the door. Thanks to Freakazoid's lack of superpowers, all the misfortune that the door suffered was being handled roughly. It groaned feebly in protest.

Freakazoid bent over at his waist and stared into the depths of the refrigerator.

"….M'_hungrrrry,_ Dexter," He whined plaintively as he leaned in further. He felt more than heard his other half step up beside him, looking into the fridge as well.

Dexter sighed. "Do you want some cereal, Freakazoid?"

Freakazoid shot up so fast his head nearly collided with the freezer._ "DO I!"_

At that, Dexter couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips, and Freakazoid grinned and followed along behind him, nearly at his heels. The geek went over to the cupboard and retrieved the bowls and cereal, some nondescript sugary concoction with the usual weird animal-wearing-clothes mascot stamped on the cardboard box.

"Ooh! Marshmallows!" Freak chirped, jabbing at an illustration on the cover with one outstretched finger.

"Is this good, then?" Dexter asked, a chuckle in his tone.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Okay, great-do you remember where the—"

Freakazoid handed him one spoon, his other hand still digging into the kitchen drawer next to the sink. Dexter blinked.

"I guess you do."

"Yup, of course I do!"

Dexter sat down at the kitchen table just as Freak drowned his marshmallow-and-god-knows-what cereal in milk and held the bowl to his ear as he went over to sit at the table next to Dexter.

"Hey Dexxy, these aren't making popping noises." Freak swished his spoon around in the bowl as if maybe he could beat the noises out of the cereal.

"That's Rice Krispies, these are…whatever's cheapest that Mom can find at the store, I guess." He stared at the lumpy cereal and sagged a bit, looking tired.

Freakazoid let out a barking laugh and teasingly poked Dexter's head with the butt of his spoon. Dexter batted him away.

There was a nice silence between them for a moment. Some silences are awkward but some are companionable, gentle and easy. This was one of the good ones.

"So what now?" Freak spoke through a mouthful of cereal.

"Well…" Dexter sighed into his bowl. Even with no context he had a good idea of what Freakazoid meant, since Freak liked to look at the big picture of things and skimp details. Details that were sometimes _very_ important.

"We'll just tell have to tell Mom and Dad. That, we've, we've definitely got to do that."

"Oh, cool, yeah," Freak agreed amiably, scarfing down another bite. "Great plan, Dexter, but um..." He paused. "I'm not trying to, to bring you down or anything but, but what are we going to _tell_ them?"

Dexter's confidence visibly disappeared. "I have _no_ idea," he groaned and let his head flop down to the table.

_**F!**_

"So this loser is gonna be _staying here_ now?" Duncan asked. The look on his face made it sound like he'd just learned Christmas had been canceled, or at least postponed by four months.

"Well, it'll be a little interesting juggling bills and making ends meet…but we'll cut back and figure something out, I'm sure!" Mrs. Douglas had the type of voice that could make delivering the death of a family member sound like a cheerful event. She seemed to be always looking on the bright side, or at least vocalizing the news like it was on the bright side. Dexter couldn't figure out if that was a positive or a negative quality.

"Thanks guys, for letting him stay," Dexter told his parents, watching the newly christened Fredric Zoid stare at Duncan with a slightly sinister grin on his face. Mental link or no, Dexter had a pretty good idea of what Freakazoid was thinking about, and Dexter himself hoped to avoid it. Duncan was dumb enough to pick a fight with Freakazoid and Freakazoid was smart enough to finish it, and finish it for good this time, now that he could.

"So…Fredric, was it?" Douglas Douglas started slowly, like he was tasting the words in his mouth. Freakazoid looked over to him but didn't move from Dexter's shoulder. "You're….an exchange student? From...?"

"Uganda!" Freakazoid chirped, saluting for reasons known only to him. "Yessir!"

"…And….and your, your..." Mr. Douglas motioned awkwardly in Freakazoid's general direction. "Your skin...?"

"Rare, not painful _or_ contagious disease," Freakazoid supplied simply. "I ate too many blueberries as a child. And pomegranates. Even though pomegranates aren't blue. And I'm allergic to cran-apple now," Freakazoid said, and Dexter resisted slamming his face into his palm because this was the tone of voice Freak used when he was making things up on the fly. "So I only drink papaya juice," Freak added finally.

The face-palm meeting could not be postponed. Dexter's face rested wearily in his palm as he tried to not crawl into the shower, lie on the floor and weep in utter despair. Freakazoid took no notice.

"Er….right. Yes." This seemed enough for Dexter's father.

There a moment of pause where Dexter's mother smiled so hard her eyes closed and she clapped her hands together, the polish on her fingernails smudged and chipping. "Well, I didn't have a meal for five planned so we'll have to think of something else for dinner, alright?"

At this, Duncan finally seemed interested in the conversation, and with a hint of anger in his voice he snapped, "What? No dinner?"

"Oh, I'll think of something, it'll just be a little late is all!" Mrs. Douglas waved dismissively as she moved into the kitchen and Mr. Douglas headed for the living room.

The second his parents were gone, Duncan whirled on his little brother and glared at him, snorting and rolling his eyes. "This is all your fault, ya little dip," and he moved to jab at his little brother with a fist, hoping to see him flinch.

What Duncan actually got to see was the foreign blue kid step right in between him and Dexter, glaring right into Duncan's face with a scowl and an odd glint in his eyes. Duncan jerked back his arm and stared. The guy was taller than _him_ when he didn't slouch. And he must have been slouching the whole time.

"Pick on someone your own size, _sport_," Fredric snapped down at him, black hair hanging in his narrowed eyes. There was the beginning of a slight smile tugging at the edge of Fredric's mouth, and to be honest it was starting to creep Duncan out. While the skin reminded Duncan a lot of the blue guy who beat him up, the crazed, manic look on his face really did it for him even more so. But it couldn't be that other blue guy-his hair was totally different and so were his clothes. There was no way.

With a half-assed glare of his own sent the foreign guy's way, Duncan caught Dexter's eye as he stalked over to the basement and sneered.

"What_ever_." He'd kick both their asses some other time when he wasn't so damn hungry.

That 'something' Mrs. Douglas mentioned turned out to be a pizza delivery, which made Dexter happy and thrilled Freakazoid so much he almost dropped the cat in his excitement. Even Duncan stopped his grumbling about a late meal and came upstairs from his home made gym in the basement.

Dexter plopped down on his side of the sofa, though in all fairness he only took up barely half a couch cushion, balancing his pizza and milk as he glanced up at his mom and dad. But now that introductions were over and they were too engrossed in the television to further comment on the blue foreign exchange student they're allowing to stay with them, something Dexter was grateful for. He took a nibble of his pizza and startled when Duncan dropped down less gracefully next to him, and the geek sparred his big brother an annoyed glare but honestly was to submissive to do anything else.

Freakazoid swaggered into the living room, halfway through scarfing down a slice of pizza before he came to a halt beside the couch, and he frowned deeply when he saw the spot next to Dexter is being taken up by that big lug. "Move it," he said, poking at Duncan's leg with the toe of his sneaker.

Duncan, who had hardly glanced up from the screen, didn't move. "Huh?"

Dexter blinked at Freakazoid's tone, and while he knew Freak would never intentionally harm Duncan unless it was provoked, Dexter still couldn't help but think there was something slighter warning in that tone. Dexter knew Freak didn't get along with Duncan, but it wasn't like Freakazoid was the first (or last) person to come at odds with his bullheaded older brother.

Freakazoid frowned deeper, eyebrows furrowing as he swallowed the pizza. "I said _moooove iiiiit._" He said slowly as if Duncan might have trouble understanding. "And by _it_ I mean your butt. To the right about three feet. _MOVE IT._"

"Who the hell you think you are dipstick? You don't live here." Duncan snapped, biting viciously into a chicken wing so roughly some of sauce flung over to Dexter's side.

"We don't say the H word here, honey," Mrs. Duncan said blithely. "Say 'heck' instead, all right?"

Dexter only stared down at the fleck of sauce on his hand "Lovely."

Freakazoid's eyebrow twitched, and he stared down at Duncan with a perfect poker face as he thought '_No but I used to __**technically**__ and now I want to sit by where I used to live.'_

So he stepped forward, placed a hand on Duncan's shoulder and shoved him powerfully away—he knew Duncan wasn't used to anyone physically bullying him and so he wasn't ready for it. Freakazoid let loose a smile and plopped down in the newly free space beside his other half with a noise of contentment. "Thanks buddy, you're the best!" It didn't sound like the warm words Freak told Dexter last night before bed, not at all. It was condescending and gently warning, but Freakazoid only smirked and pushed the envelope a bit further. "We should wrestle sometime," Freakazoid commented absentmindedly as he produced a napkin out of his pocket and swiped the sauce off Dexter's hand. On Duncan's shunned side of the couch, his mouth fell open and he stuttered through his food, but when he tried to find some semblance of wits and fight back his parents hushed him and he fell into a petrified silence.

At the whole fiasco, and especially Duncan's role in it, Dexter only snickered behind his hand. He was relieved his big brother had finally gotten a taste of his own medicine, especially when he was around to see it. He startled a bit when Freakazoid brushed off his hand, though and went back to his plate silently, then paused and held up his third slice of pizza to his beaming alter ego in quiet offering.

Freakazoid grinned down at him, "How bout we split it, huh?" He took the slice and tore it easily down the middle, taking care to give Dexter's the bigger half because he was just that kind of guy. It was what superheroes did, after all, be awesome and amazing and stuff.

Dexter sat on the couch and watched the screen, eyes unseeing. His mind was too busy swirling with replays of the day and the day before. He still couldn't truly wrap his mind around it, that not only was Freakazoid, his super hero alter ego was with him, but that he was still awesome as ever, even without his powers. Even more importantly, was that Freakazoid had still stuck around. He felt his face flush when his brain brought up the memory of Freakazoid calling him his best friend.

'_Although, it's not like Freak's been given a __**reason**__ to leave yet. There haven't been any major crimes, and even if there was, Freak's pretty powerless.'_ Dexter thought as he sank back into the couch cushions and he watched Freak sneak the cat a little pinch of pepperoni. Freakazoid caught Dexter looking at him and he grinned up at him innocently. Dexter smiled back.

'_If Freak starts to get some semblance of his powers back like Roddy suggested…what will he do?' Dexter_ blinked at the screen in the realization of the unknown.

'_What…will I do?' _

When the show's credits rolled by, Dexter's parents made some nondescript comments about doing homework before the weekend ended. Duncan ignored them, but Dexter stood up automatically and began collecting everyone's dishes. His parents thanked him, Duncan just sort of…tossed his plate at him with a grunt, and Dexter headed for the kitchen. Mr. Chubbikins paused from where he sat at Freak's feet, watching Dexter's retreating back and looking back to the blue haired human, clearly wanting to stay with both.

For his part, Freakazoid stared at what just went down before him, and then felt his face fall into a slight frown, because how was Dexter just _expected_ to take care of everyone's stuff for them! He scrambled to his feet, immediately taking his own plate into the kitchen and dropped his stuff into the sink, smacking the water on and dumping in soap bubbles with much more vicious energy than needed.

"F-Freakazoid!" Dexter dropped the goofy 'human' name when there was only the cat to hear in the room with them. He watched Freak's heavy handed actions with wide eyed surprise.

"W-what are you doing?"

Freakazoid looked over and spoke slowly, like maybe he was crazy. "…_D__ishes_?"

"Well _yeah_ I mean—" Dexter realized he sounded like an idiot, so with that he just muttered out shyly, "I-I can do them..."

"Well I got to 'em first! Dibs!" Freakazoid stuck out his tongue and began scrubbing, watching the warm water and bubbles swish around with obvious glee on his face.

Dexter stared for a moment, then something else took over and he found himself smiling like his alter ego and snatching a towel into his hands, "Fine! Then I'm drying!" He declared proudly like this was some big achievement. There was a pause in that, Dexter's mind brought up a new revelation. That doing things were much better with two people than

with one.

That being lonely all the time, even when you're used to it, _isn't_ fun.

Freak faced a grimace and a flinch, "Ah jeez, I'm foiled again!" A goofy grin melted over his features as he handed over a plate to Dexter. He could help but think that if this was being normal, then this was pretty fun.

Freakazoid liked fun.

Dexter nodded seriously, then broke out in laughter, "Ahaha, yes, yes you are. Not as bad as that time the Lobe covered you in glue and chicken feathers but—" He stuck a plate in the cupboard, and appeared to think it over for a moment. "…Still foiled ya."

"Oh don't remind me—" He shuddered at the memory. "You remember that?" Freak realized as he handed Dex a glass to dry.

"Of course-I kept finding feathers all over my room for a week after." The teen rolled his eyes. "Mom thought I was eating my pillows in my sleep."

For all the trouble it was, Freakazoid's adventures brought him just as much laughter as they did exasperation and annoyance. Dexter considered himself lucky his super hero wasn't anywhere close as angsty or troubled as some of the others out there, even the ones only in comic books. They led an awful life sometimes, and just short of the heroes who were disguised as regular people, how many of them like Dexter Douglas, who was a human with another personality, could say they'd met _themselves_?

…and that it was going _so_ well?

Freakazoid shot Dexter a grin, "Remember Mo-ron?" He laughed as he finished up the washing and began wiping up the sink.

Dexter groaned at the memory, "Yessss-jeez. ...I thought for sure Mom and Dad woulda bought the monkey thing. It was fun but he kinda cleared out the fridge." He frowned as he draped the towel over the sink edge to dry, and turned to head upstairs. When they walked by the living room entrance Dexter dropped his voice to a quiet mumble.

"How'd you manage to keep him in the Freakalair after mom and dad kicked him out?"

Freakazoid followed him up the staircase, cracking his knuckles dramatically. "Years of practice and natural talent! And soundproofing." He chortled. "…How'd _you_ manage to pay the phone bill?

"What do you mean 'how?' My allowance is STILL going toward it!" Dexter moaned and shook his head, stepping into his bedroom and nearly tripping over the cat. "Gah-Mr. Chubbykins, go lay down—" Dexter yelped.

Freak looked down at the orange fluff ball batting at his jeans. "Aww, poor kitty, c'mere..." He scooped up the morbidly heavy cat, huffing quietly in surprise. "Oof. You eat a pizza too, buddy boy?"

"_Mrrrow_." The cat said.

Dexter watched the two with a small smile on his lips as he sat down on his bed, dragging his book bag across his comforter and digging around for his math, talking to Freakazoid with his nose nearly buried into the bag.

"So I'm glad Mom and Dad'll let you stay; and uhm, I know it's not the Freakazone but there's the couch downstairs or…" He yanked out his textbook with a vicious tug. "And there's the futon if you still want that. Oh, no I thought Mrs. Waldon gave me the handout for—oh yeah here it is—uhm, yeah."

The geek finished lamely as he looked up from the problems to his alter ego, who had been obediently silent while his other half rambled.

"Futon sounds good." He smiled and looked over the math. "Ooh, neat, I used to be able to do stuff like that….seems like it was only yesterday." He sighed dramatically as he flopped down on the bed beside Dexter, trying to recall the days when he was basically had a built in calculator with internet connection.

"It _was _yesterday, Freakazoid," Dexter pointed out with a chuckle.

Freakazoid's head flopped back as he stared at the ceiling. "Oh. Yeah." Lying back on the bed, Freakazoid's mouth went into a slightly flat line that Dexter couldn't see as he thought about his lack of powers. "…And thanks, for, for…" The blue-skinned teen hesitated, switching his gaze back to the geek, "for letting me stay."

Dexter looked over at him as he sat up, smile back in place. He tilted his head and pushed his glasses back up his nose, "Of course." Like if it wasn't obvious.

In a few seconds the meaning behind what Freakazoid had said before registered in Dexter's brain and he looked back down at his algebra.

"You mean you can't….do any of this anymore?" He gestured to the problems that prior to 'the Accident,' Freakazoid could have solved within seconds while it took Dexter a good solid five minutes. Granted, he had to show work for it, but the alter ego that was in his head yelling out the answer to problem twenty seven when Dexter was working on problem ten was not something Dex would miss, no matter what he told Freak.

Freakazoid bit his lip, "Well—I mean….gimmie a pencil?" He snatched one and began scrawling right in the book, "….okay, I don't remember what eight times seven is." He never had to memorize it; he could always just calculate it. It made sense to Dexter.

"Fifty-six," Dexter said without missing a beat.

Freakazoid stared at him. "What, how did—" He poked Dexter's forehead with a pencil, earning a chuckle, "Did I leave my calculator in there or something?"

Dexter laughed and leaned back, "No-o….I just, uhm, _know_ it?" He tried feebly. It was the only answer he had.

"Well that's just crazy." It was totally the pot calling the kettle black for FREAKAZOID to call ANYONE 'crazy'. "Gosh, Dexxy." Freak grinned and shook his head, stringy hair swaying. "Well, if eight times seven is fifty six, then your answer is this..."

Freakazoid showed him what he'd written, and Dexter glanced it over, running the numbers in his head.

"Yup, that's right," _'The concept Freak understands, it's the calculation that trips him up. Huh. I wonder if he does that with anything else..?' _

Dexter adjusted his slipping glasses again, and he worked a moment, uninterrupted by the hero who was content to watch over his shoulder. This went on for several moments, until the pencil that was scratching along the paper stopped, and Dexter's face went pale.

"Oh, oh jeez." He moaned, screwing his eyes closed, as Freak looked up at him, his eyes wide when he saw Dexter so alarmed.

"What is it?"

Dexter scrabbled for his notebook as he explained, "I forgot to finish Duncan's essay!" He gave a half whine, "I've got type up the final and—H-hey! Give that back Freakazoid!" The shorter teen yelped when the paper was snatched from his hands, worry for his physical health smothering any thought process as he watched Freak ball up the work he had done and _toss it in the garbage can. _

"Freakazoid!"

"He can do his own stupid essay. What kind of _weenie_ makes other people write their essays?" Freak grumbled. "An' if he doesn't like it then maybe I can set up a wrestling match." Freakazoid leered at the idea, but Dexter only panicked more.

"If I don't do it he'll fail English and have to repeat it AGAIN and mom and dad will, will—" His coherency stuttered off and he swallowed the panicked look in his eyes as Freak stared down at him.

Freakazoid blinked. "Mom and Dad will what, exactly? …not your fault if he fails English. _You_ aren't taking it for a third time."

'_Oh sure, when the time calls for it Freak becomes the logical one." _

"Besides, he'll never learn if you just do it for him."

Dexter sighed, defeated. Of course he knew that, it was still the principle of the thing, but he tried to defend his position anyway.

"Because then they'll ground _him_ and he'll take it out _me_..." _'And I don't really wanna get beat up when you're not there to take over and-and protect me.'_

Freakazoid's chest puffed out. "Nope. Nope he will not." Dexter raised his head from where he'd flopped back onto the bed to shot him a look of askance and confusion. Freakazoid continued. "Cause _I'm_ here," He grinned. "And I gotta protect my best friend in the world!"

Dexter sat up, looking for a sign of play. But Freak's blue eyes were bright and honest. He meant it. Dexter swallowed at the words and their meaning.

Freak stared at him, "I mean it Dex, he won't hurt you. I promise."

Dexter just couldn't find any trace of deceit in his other half's eyes; and he wasn't sure if that thrilled or scared him. Why should someone as great as Freakazoid care about little old Dexter?

"You…you're my best friend too, F-Freak." Dexter finally mumbled out as he looked down at his sneakers.

Freakazoid's face shifted back to 'happy puppy mode' at those words and he looked back at the book. "So teach me your crazy calculator skills, best friend!"

Dexter laughed when the mattress groaned from Freak's flop, and with that exclamation they worked into the night as the evening fall settled around them. The wind whispered through the leafless trees and blew some last speckles of rain down to the ground as Dexter focused on his homework and Freakazoid rested his head on his knee, the rest of him sprawled out over the bed.

The problem with Dexter was that he generally avoided physical touching, because he was set to automatic flinch. That was a from combination fighting giant baddies as Freakazoid and having an older brother who beat the snot out of him so regularly you could set your watch by it.

Dexter just had issues, and Freakazoid was working to fix them, only the weird thing was Freak didn't have to do much. Dexter had no special issues with Freakazoid apparently, because on the last problem Freak showed him he leaned over and pointed at a spot where Freak's calculation had tripped up his answer.

"That's close but here...yeah, that's right." Dexter grinned. "You're doing good for not having the internet anymore. Some people in class don't have all the multiples of 12 down yet..."

"Multiples of 12, uhm... I don't really know 'em either, is that okay?" He sighed, and without waiting for Dex's answer, continued scrawling, before showing Dex another answer. "Right, of course... what about this one?"

Easily the geek found the problem. "You forgot to carry a sign...here..." He smiled encouragingly at his alter ego. "Close!"

Freakazoid sighed, clearly a little frustrated. "...I want the internet back. How do you live without it?" He wrinkled his nose, flopping back down to lie on Dexter's bed. He felt more than a little crippled without having a connection to the rest of the world, who could blame him?

Dexter shrugged, riffling through his book bag and stuffing his math homework away.

"Dunno. I use it more than the average person, too, don't forget. But Roddy said you might get back some powers or something..." He tried to recall their mentor's exact words. "Like, not ALL of them but I can see his point. The web IS huge Freak, it'd be hard to stop it from trickling back to you."

Against him, Freak was silent.

"Okay, so essay time—" Dexter nodded determinedly. If he could get this thing done for the weekend then him and Freak would have two more days before school starts since Monday was a holiday. Right!

Freakazoid, for his part, wrinkled his eyebrows and sat up, instantly upset again at the remembrance of Duncan. "…Y_our_ essay, right? Not. Not _his._"

Dexter took one look at the serious gaze in Freak's eyes and paused, before nodding slowly.

"No-o, no mine." He handed over his outline, his name at the top and everything. "…See? There's my doodle of aliens landing and everything..."

At that, Freak grinned and instantly relaxed, resting back against Dexter's knee and handing back the outline. "It looks like Mo-ron's ship."

Dexter honestly laughed at that, he was happy to share the memory with someone. If anyone else looked at the doodle they wouldn't see it for what it was, naturally Freak did. "I thought so too! Halfway through I—"

What Dexter did halfway through Freakazoid never got to find out, because at that moment stupidity and bullheadness reared its ugly head as Duncan barged right into the room, turning a mean gaze to the geek who'd frozen on his bed with an undignified yelp.

"Hey Twink-you got my essay?" Duncan demanded without so much a hello.

Freakazoid stared up at Duncan through his bangs, and while he hadn't moved a damn inch from Dexter's side his body tensed—just a little—more toward coiled snake prepared to strike than relaxed cat.

"_No_, he doesn't." Freak snapped suddenly, earning Duncan's glare.

"Stay outta this dipwad!" He broke his focus to shoot at Freak, and then paused at Dexter's next words.

"You w-won't learn…" Dexter's voice died down at the look on his big brother's face.

"What did you say, _Dexxy_?" He hissed out, glaring down at his little punching bag. "You _don't_?"

At this Freakazoid finally sat up, his movement easy and muscles coiled as he spoke through slightly gritted teeth. "He said you won't learn to write any essays if he writes 'em all for ya. _dipwad." _Freak snorted derisively. If he was Dexter's alter ego than he was going to take that role seriously and stand up where Dexter couldn't. Because of that, and partly because of Dexter's shivering beside him, he didn't break his physical contact with Dexter, still leaned up against him, still trying to speak without words. _I'm here for you. _

Even without the mental link and the two infamous words to save him, Dexter _did_ feel…empowered a bit. "You can pass Duncan, you're not stupid—" He tried, then failed when he saw Duncan's eyes flare.

"Are you calling me _stupid,_ Dorkster!"

"No, D-Duncan yo-u-_wah_!" He's stopped when a meaty hand grabbed his jacket, and he was yanked right off the bed.

And it's pretty much as fast as lightning when this blue sort of spark shoots through Freak's chest and buzzes up his spine, the image of Dexter hanging before him and in danger sends Freak up and moving. Before Dexter or Duncan can see what's happening, Duncan is on the floor and Freak is planted between him and Dexter, panting hard, his hair standing on end like it was zapped with static, his fists balled.

"Arright, do we understand each other?" Freak leered, he was still breathing through his mouth and nose. He panted softly, with adrenaline and something _else_ that coursed through his veins as he stared down at Duncan.

Duncan got to his feet shakily, still baring his teeth in some semblance of bravado, which Freakazoid was clearly not buying. Duncan's posture was giving off submission whether he knew it or not, and as he back into the door way, holding the arm he'd been thrown onto, he shot his little brother a final venomous look, eyes bright with anger before storming out without a word.

Dexter stared from where he landed, which had turned out to be just to the left of the computer chair. He swallowed and got to his feet.

Freakazoid stood there for a second, then grinning in absolute triumph before he settled right back down. "What a weenie," he commented, before stretching out and patting the open space on the comforter next to him, looking expectantly up at Dexter.

Dexter stared at him with wide eyes behind his tilted glasses, looking from the suddenly _normal_ Freakazoid then back to his computer screen, which he pointed wordlessly too.

"Huh? What? He smoothed down his hair absentmindedly, staring at the internet log on page. "...Oh, why's that there?"

Dexter blinked. _'Does this mean he hadn't seen for himself how worked up he got? That could be bad.'_

Dexter bit his lip, "My computer wasn't ON Freakazoid...I think you-uhm..." He gestured to Freak, just in general, who was lying so nonchalantly before him.

Freakazoid's eyes widened and he grinned, letting out a joyous shout as the realization hit him.

"I, I, did that?... _I'm baaack, baby!" _And with that he punched the air and cracked his knuckles, flopping gracelessly all over the bed and scaring the hell out of the cat, but Freak paid no notice, instead scrunching nose and concentrating hard. "Eight times nine is seventy-two!"

" ...Yeah! You-you did it!" Dexter smiled happily. He couldn't help it. Freak's energy was contagious. _'Now Freak's got the capability to leave, he's got powers. All he needs is a reason and…'_ Dexter cut himself off there. It was too painful to think about. "Uh, that's great Freak. Really." Dexter said with much less enthusiasm as he glanced at the door.

"Awww _yeah!_ I feel great! I feel like ten pounds'a sunshine in a two pound bag! I feel—" It was then he noticed Dexter looking away with his shoulder sagging and Freak sat back up, on guard.

"What? What is it?

"Nothing!" He flinched, that was too quick. Even someone as scattered as Freak would catch that.

And he did.

"Dexxy…" Freak started warningly, sitting up and leaning forward, cocking his head.

Dexter rubbed his arm sheepishly, "Just… now they you got your powers back I guess..." He glanced at his homework. He could finish it by himself, he always did before. It wouldn't be any different. "…Are you gonna leave?" Dexter's eyes were pleading, whether he knew it or not. "Go protect the city?"

At that, Freakazoid finally understood. "…Nah." He smiled softly, then settled back down into the bed, lying back against the comforter. "DC can protect itself for just a little bit, huh? I got better things to do!"

Dexter stared, dumbfounded, before his brain finally kicked a neuron in gear and his lips broke out into a shy smile. "Okay, okay…thanks."

Freakazoid grinned and leaned back against Dexter as he settled down again, if not a little bit hesitantly. He didn't notice when the computer monitor flared just a little brighter when his happiness grew.

There a long, comfortable silence that stretched between them like that. Moments passed until suddenly Dexter tore his gaze away from his work to look at Freak, a slight dare in his body language.

He bit his lip and started tentatively. "Hey, Freak?"

"…Ya-huh?"

Dexter set down his pencil, looking Freak in the eye as he mumbled out his next words.

"You wouldn't-wouldn't ever..._lie_...right?" Freakazoid's eyebrow quirked as he thought, but he didn't break eye contact.

"…No, I wouldn't, Dexter."

A pregnant pause, Dexter seemed to be going through an internal battle of wills and Freak was just waiting, uncharacteristically patient and calm. Finally, Dexter lifted his hand, all his fingers curled except for his smallest one, which he brandished to Freak and gave a half smile.

"Pinkie promise?"

Without missing a beat, Freakazoid linked Dexter's pinkie with his own, squeezing gently. Pinkie _swear_." He answered, shooting the geek an untamed grin.

Dexter raised his shoulder, now smiling stronger because this-this made everything Freak's said true now. Freakazoid really did think of him as his best friend! He couldn't help the bubble of joy in his stomach that grew inside him, so he only nodded and reluctantly broke away from Freaks grip, continuing his essay.

Freakazoid closed his eyes, resting back against Dexter and listened to the scratching of his pencil across the paper. It made total sense to him; there'd never be any reason to lie to Dexter Douglas, because Freakazoid trusted him implicitly and without even thinking about it.

Everything else would take some getting used to. Dexter wasn't one of those things.

**I love to hear from you guys! Any thoughts/opinions/criticisms on this! Have at it my fair friends! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, as always, for being so awesome and so speedy! I want to thank you all too, for reading this still, because I know updates are slow, so I'm trying to make this the best chapter as possible, to give you all something worth waiting for. In response to one of my recent reviews, this story is far from done! The adventure continues! **

"_**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**_

_**Chapter 5**_

"_Double my fun, double my vision, long hard look at my last decision. Hustle here, hustle there…Hustle me bitch and you best beware."_ –Red Hot Chili Peppers

Freakazoid was many things, but it turns out that a morning person was not one of them.

If the fact that he was half asleep in his bowl of cereal was anything to go by, then Dexter was seriously considering leaving the poor guy at home from school-Freakazoid didn't really _have_ to go, in fact.

"What-What, _yes!_ Yes I _do!_" Freak had his forehead off the table instantly when Dexter timidly voiced his thoughts. "Dexxy, we have to go to school, I don't want to stay here all day without you and do _nothing,_ I'd, I'd go stir-crazy!"

"Freakazoid," Dexter said, calmly, "you can't even sit up straight."

"Yes I can," Freak replied childishly. His spine straightened as if to prove his point. "I'll be fine, I wanna go."

Dexter rolled his eyes, a slight show of confidence about him. He was relaxed and therefore bolder; Freakazoid brought that out in him, and he had been pretty confidence for the past weekend, but now the weekend was over. The nights spent into the early hours of the morning playing computer games or watching pointless TV and making idle commentary was done with, because something awful, horrible and dreadful was today.

Today was a Monday.

Freakazoid was pretty sure Mondays were god-awful inventions by some insane villain who was disturbed in more places than just the head. That was the only way to describe such a horrific idea as getting up at six in the morning to take a shower and get dressed and be expected to eat _and_ make idle conversation.

He had no idea how Dexter did it, but the boy was the one who had awakened him and was already ready to go out the door and delicately nibbling on an orange slice by the time Freakazoid had stumbled downstairs, tripped over the cat, cursed half-heartedly at gravity, and then fell into the chair opposite Dex. This was as far as he'd gotten, because it seemed his spoon wouldn't make it to his mouth no matter how much he tried to use the Force to raise it there, so the black-haired teen had settled for falling back to sleep right there at the table. While it seemed the best and most reasonable possible option to him, his other half apparently disagreed.

"Freakazoid, look, just put your dish in the sink and then we'll go, okay?" Dexter finally said as he stowed his books into his bag and stood up.

"…Mnh," Freak groaned into the table.

"_Freak-_"

"M'UP!" Freakazoid's eyes flew back open and fixed on Dexter. "…What?"

Dexter only stared back then broke into laughter, pushing his glasses up his nose as he stood and pushed his chair in. "Nevermind, let's just go, the bus'll be here soon."

Freakazoid just shrugged and followed, yawning. The moment he got his powers back, he was going to go after the sadistic villain who invented Mondays.

_**F!**_

After giving the school essentially the same strange-Uganda-disease speech about Freakazoid (with only a few highlighted differences). Dexter was surprised to find out that the secretary was _expecting_ Freakazoid. In fact, Freakazoid was given an OK for the exchange student business and a schedule of his own. It seemed that an unidentified Scotsman had been in here the day before and had set Freakazoid up as a student, and had planned on this being _Fredric Zoid's_ first day at Harry-Connick High.

Dexter made a mental note to buy Roddy a new kilt or something for Christmas as he watched Freak check over his schedule.

"Hey, I got math with you!" Freakazoid bubbled, noticeably more awake from the loud bus ride over. "Annnnd lunch! And, global! And-uh, awww."

"What is it Frea-Fred?" Dexter almost slipped as he shoved book after book into his locker. For the time being, Freak and he would have to share a locker. He dutifully ignored the stares he and Freak were receiving as kids whispered about the new kid and Dorkster Douglas, if only because it was automatic.

"I have gym when you have English Honors, nut bunnies." Freakazoid mumbled, but shrugged it off. Oh well, gym class would be fun! He too, paid no attention to anyone else, mostly because he hadn't seen Steph yet (and he couldn't wait to see her! Even though Dexter had warned him to lie low about it) and because well, Dexter was here.

Dexter smiled back at him, "Yeah, sorry."

"S'ok."

Something seemed to strike Dexter, and he pulled out of his locker with an audible 'oh,' and shut it gently. "Are you gonna have problems introducing yourself to the classes I'm not in with—" he looked up at him, "No, of course not. Silly question. Okay, well, I have to get to first period. Say hi to Steph if you see her, though I'm pretty sure her family's still on vacation for the week in Florida."

"'Kay, bye."

"Bye." Dexter was fine with that being an acceptable farewell, but Freakazoid was apparently not, because he leaned over and ruffled Dexter's hair, the geek being much shorter than him and therefore was in prime place for friendly, rough treatment. "Gah!"

"Later, Dexxy." Freak grinned, patted his shoulder a final time and strutted off.

Dexter regained his wits and adjusted his glasses. For a moment he worried about Freakazoid finding the classrooms-then corrected himself. Freakazoid had technically gone to this high school, as Dexter Douglas. Of course the guy knew where everything was, especially the cafeteria. He prayed to anyone up there listening that Freakazoid, er, Fredric Zoid, didn't make a mess of things in the classes Dexter didn't have with him. And he also asked that, concerning the classes Frea-Fred, DID have with him, that he'd keep his mouth shut and not give the jocks any more reason to make fun of him.

Not surprisingly, Dexter didn't need an excuse to run into trouble, it met him halfway and kept going, taking him along as a hostage.

It happened on the way to math class, which Dexter was excited for. (This could have been for one of two reasons, either it was that he knew the material already or that he could talk to Freak through it and not get yelled at by the teacher because the old professor adored Dex and his worth ethic. But he still got to see Freakazoid and that was a plus, either way.)

"Hey, _Dorkste_r!"

Dexter gulped and whipped around. Three guys were headed his way, and if the massive shoulders and hulking figures were anything to go by, not to mention the jackets in Connick's team colors, then they were jocks. And Dexter was _very much screwed_. These weren't just any sports guys, he noticed as they got closer, these were the three who _always_ beat him up. He didn't even know their names, and they gave him a black eye on his birthday last year. And on Valentine's Day this year. Oh, and last month, for no reason at all.

"Uh," he started, shrinking back, "yes?"

"What the hell you think you're doing, talking to the new kid this morning and all at lunch? What, you so damn desperate for a friend you gotta cling to the guy?"

Dexter's mind went into overdrive, _'Oh god, they're right, they __**are**__, Freakazoid probably hates hanging out with me all the time, at home is enough and I'm ruining school for him...'_

Dexter leaned back, fumbling for words. "N-no."

"Well don't _fucking_ do it then, stupid, what've we told you?" Dexter flinched when a hand grabbed his jacket and dragged him forward, right into the meaty face of the tallest and largest of the three. "Or do you need another lesson?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the punch that…came just as he imagined. Dexter was sent reeling back into the lockers where he made a terrific crashing noise and crumpled, his jaw aching as hard as his teeth were, throbbing in his mouth. He tested the front ones and was relieved when none of them gave.

"You don't need to go messing around with the guy-he's real cool and you'll just screw him up, nerd!"

"Yeah!" Another voice agreed, but Dexter stayed put where he was, not looking up at any of them. He could sort of tell a crowd was gathering, just by that instinct of hearing and feeling the motion around him. He kept his head down, even when he thought he heard a voice in the crowd that he recognized.

"Dex?" Wait, he _did_ recognize that voice. "Dexter!" Freakazoid came storming up behind the small collection of students, shoving three or two out of the way to get to the middle of the hall and see…and Freakazoid stopped dead, the equivalent of a computer screen freezing. Thoughts were still obviously processing on the inside, but his expression was unreadable. He could only gaze down at Dexter's prone form for a few seconds.

"Dexter….is your lip bleeding," Freakazoid sort of half asked, half noted, rather slowly, calm and monotonous. Dexter looked up at him, eyes watering behind his lenses as he nodded, wiping hastily at the mentioned wound. His sleeve came back with a streak of crimson and he blanched at the sight of it.

Freak whirled around and planted himself in between the crowd and his other half. "I think ya need ta'explain this to me," Freakazoid's voice had lowered warningly as his gaze settled on the first guy he saw. "And I think you better start _soon._"

Freakazoid? Freakazoid was _real peeved._

"We…" The jock faltered at the ex-hero's entire posture, losing his backbone. There wasn't a single person who could say that they've come out one of those glares on top, villain or no, and Freakazoid knew it. "Look, we seen you with him all day. And we just want you to know he's a puss-"

Freakazoid didn't let him finish his statement. The guy went down against a locker, nose bleeding profusely. Freak vaguely wondered if he broke it.

Dexter stared with wide eyes, and so did everyone else. Except for Freakazoid, who pulled his fast back but kept his fingers clenched and his arm bent to head level as he pinned another jock with one glare.

"_An'you?"_ He challenged, grinning so hard his bared teeth stuck out against his blue skin.

The guy didn't meet his eyes, and shook his head at the wall. "Arright-that's what I thought," he said, triumphant glee in his voice. "Rule number one, _nobody_ hurts my best friend, okay?"

Dumb nods from the jocks. Freak continued. "Rule number two, pick on somebody your _own_ size, like me, maybe, but y'all know how _that'll_ turn out, AND if you weenies don't mind—" He made a play lurch in one guys direction for good measure, and smirked wider when he earned a pathetic flinch for it.

"Dexter wants to get to math class!" Freakazoid declared, suddenly happy again now that he had everything under control, grabbing the geek's wrist before storming away down the hall, his own lesson concluded.

By the bathrooms and out of danger, Freakazoid finally looked down at Dexter, and his voice softened measurably. "Hey…you okay?"

Dexter had been withdrawn right back into his shell—the shell that Freakazoid had done so well to wear down—for the entirety of the bloody event, and it broke Freakazoid's heart to see all his hard work over the course of the three day weekend unraveled. "Y-yes."

Freak's lips pursed. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?"

"N-no, just, just this," Dexter gestured at his lip noncommittally, and he froze when a long blue finger brushed under his swelling lip and brushed it carefully. He raised his eyes to meet Freakazoid's blue ones, but they were too busy glued to the wound on the nerd's lip.

"Dexter…"

"They said…they said you'd be better off with them, m-maybe they're right."

"Oh for the love of _kittens, _Dexter," Freak's eyes rolled as he retracted his hand and lovingly cuffed the back of Dexter's head, barely a flick. He locked his eyes with Dexter and forced him to stay there. "_I don't like them._ They're just jealous weenies."

"…What am I, then?"

Freakazoid took no time in his answer. "You're my best friend, Dexter!" When he still saw doubt in those brown eyes he went on, his own personal torch lit. "You keep me sane, for Pete's sakes! You're like-" He pauses, gesturing pointlessly for a moment, "you're like, smart and stuff, and logical, and without you I wouldn't have thought of beating Longhorn with that Seventh Inning stretch thing, if you hadn't reminded me, remember? Geez, Dexxy, sometimes I don't know what I'd **do** without you." He shrugs. "You're _that awesome_ to me." He chuckles, shrugs again, almost... helplessly. "Who knows, I'd probably go like, evilly ballistic or something." He laughed, knowing that wouldn't ever happen, but still, it was funny to think about.

Dexter stared. "Freakazoid—Freak, you ARE crazy," he reminded, and to that effect his alter ego beamed down at him, the over-head lights flickering just a bit.

"I know, great, isn't it!"

_**F!**_

When Dexter got home after school that day, the first thing he did was sit Freakazoid down with a video game about being a dragon and blasting cars on his Playstation. The second thing he did was write Roddy, who had already written him this on Sunday:

_Dexter, _

_ Hope things are still going well. I can imagine Duncan setting off the Freak by bullying you-he's had to watch you get bullied by the lug for all these years, and I don't blame him for wanting to prevent it now that he can. Give the guy some credit, lad, and be thankful he'll still listen to you at the drop of a pin. _

_ Getting some energy back is unexpected though-keep an eye on that and let me know what, if anything else, sets off Freakazoid_

_ -Roddy MacStew _

Dexter gave the first email a quick once over, then started his response, Freakazoid's game turning to background noise, as did his nonsensical chatter. He frowned when he thought of Freakazoid being so angry before, the way his voice had darkened.

_Hey Roddy,_

_ Freakazoid and I are doing pretty much the same. There were some problems with some jocks today at school but Freakazoid, who took care of them, didn't show any signs of getting his powers back. Maybe that thing with Duncan on Saturday night was a one-time only deal, after all. _

_ He doesn't seem to want to go out and patrol or anything, either. Which I'm kind of glad for, because, obviously, he has no super hero powers and that... wouldn't end well. But I hope he isn't hiding his feelings since I know he loved doing superhero stuff. (Then again, I'm not sure Freakazoid COULD hide anything...he kind of wears his emotions on his sleeve.)_

_ Will keep you posted, and thanks for setting school up earlier for us. Knew I was forgetting something. _

_ -Dexter_

Dexter hit the enter key. Rather forcefully, had anyone been paying attention.

Dinner was uneventful, and for that Dexter was grateful. After that his parents went out to Monday night bowling and Duncan went out with his pals or buddies or cohorts or something. Dexter, like he had every Monday night since he could remember, stayed home, and did dishes. The only plus side this time was Dexter was no longer very much alone.

"Dexxy, I wanna rinse, I wanna rinse!"

"Freak, I—"

It started very slowly, like most things tend to do. Dexter was doing dishes, per usual, and his Freakazoid was pestering him, also per usual. He was practically curling over him into some twisted bear hug and holding possessively onto his waist. Had it been anyone else, Dexter would have freaked out, or changed four different shades of red, but in Freak's case, he didn't. This was normal. Well, as normal as things got.

But still, even Dexter Douglas' patience was feeling frayed. "Alright,_ fine._ Here, take this towel and no-that hasn't been washed. Here. Dry this." Anything to get the guy off his back. Literally.

"Kay!" Freakazoid hummed a pointless tune to himself as he buffed up the plate, towel whisking and tongue peeking out between his blue lips as he concentrated. Dexter let a tiny smile grace his lips before he turned his attention fully back to the soapy dishes in the sink, digging about and scrubbing.

"Done!" Freak chirped a second later, shoving some of his stringy black hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear.

"Great, here, this one next,"

This continued, for several dishes without interruption, the occasional comment made by the still erratically-minded superhero about everything from their classes, to trees, then to marmalade and back again to school. For all Dexter's shyness and lack of social skills, he kept up with his other half's attention disorder surprisingly well. Dexter supposed that was because he and Freak had once shared a body-and mind. They were once ever closer than they were now, the type of connection that can only be achieved by sharing _everything_. Freakazoid liked Dexter, and told him so daily. Dexter…wasn't sure what to think yet-he was torn between the narcissistic complications of being friends with a part of _yourself,_ and the fact that Freakazoid understood him on so many levels without judgment or attempts to try and change him that it made Dexter smile to himself.

And now that he and Freak were split from each other, and Freak had his own body, (albeit the loss of his fabulous powers, though his negligible levels of sanity were still intact, it seemed,) their relationship as friends seemed _better_.

'_Maybe…maybe my life can return back to normal, even if Freak is still in it.' _

_**-CRASH!**_-

Dexter was brought from his thoughts as something shattered on the linoleum just to his left. The geek jumped a foot and scrambled to the side, nearly giving himself whiplash as he turned to look at Freakazoid, who was standing still, staring at his hands spread before with wide eyes.

"Freak! What the heck-Freakazoid? Hey," Dexter dropped the scrubber and cup back in the sink, "What's wrong, _what_-"

"Dex?" Freak whimpered. "Dex, what's-what's happening to me?"

Freakazoid sounded _scared. _He never sounded scared. "What do you mean what's-_oh my gosh_." Dexter stared.

Freakazoid's hands weren't blue any more. They were in some parts still tinged a light cyan, but from his fingers and palms his hands were a gentle tan, a graceful transition of blue to the natural Caucasian flesh tone that looked alien on Freakazoid, simply because he wasn't _tan_, he was blue. Only now, he was starting to Not Be Blue.

"Freak, what, are you…_are you losing your blue?"_

Silence.

"F-Freakazoid…?"

Freakazoid's gaze snapped up to Dexter. "I-I guess so. Why now, why…_uhuh_…" Freak groaned. "Dex, I don't…I don't feel so good," the black haired teen mumbled as he swayed. "Feel kinda... funny."

Dexter stared upward at Freak's unseeing eyes, lips parting slightly as he recognized the signs Freakazoid's body was giving off. _"F-Freakazoid!" _

Seconds later, Freak's eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground, nearly falling into the dangerous shards of glass below, had Dexter not stooped under him in the nick of time and kept him mostly upright. "Rngh," Dexter grunted from under Freak's slack weight, half carrying, half dragging the powerless hero away from the sharp mess.

"Great…" Dexter groaned aloud as he laid Freak on the couch in the living room, sitting the teen upright even as he slumped back against the cushions and his head lolled over to rest on his shoulder. "One more thing to worry about." He wiped his forehead on the back of his sleeve, and sighed.

Dexter stood by and watched worriedly as Freak's trademark blue skin faded away more and more, revealing the smooth tan underneath. When all of it seemed gone, Dexter finished the dishes up quickly, then returned to Freakazoid's side and brushed a few strands of stringy black hair from Freak's face, watching the taller boy's chest rise and lower slowly.

Freakazoid stirred at the contact, and gazed groggily up at him. "What's wrong with me?" he whined, sounding like a little kid. Dexter's chest ached.

"I dunno," was all Dexter could say, biting his lip.

"I'm exhausted." Freak admitted, wrapping an arm round Dexter's slim waist and tugging the boy down into his side. "Stay with me." It wasn't a request.

Dexter smiled fondly, "If you're sure," But Freakazoid was already asleep, and didn't hear him.

_**F!**_

A couple hours later, Freakazoid woke up, a pressure burrowing into his side that was too still and breathing too evenly to be awake. "…Dexxy?" The once-super hero felt oddly weak, although not as bad as the time Gutierrez had put a stopper on his powers deep inside the Internet.

"Oh, Freakazoid…how _nice_ of you to wake up."

That voice. No. Freakazoid's eyes flew open as his body went into overdrive, sitting up despite the world spinning when he did so, and the teen gasped at the Spaniard standing in front of the television. Apparently he'd been standing there a while, just watching him. Freakazoid felt funny again.

"_Gutierrez?_ What the_ hell _are you doing here?" Automatically Freakazoid drew his arms around Dexter's body and tugged the boy closer, protectively. He had no powers, but he wasn't... powerless. If his arch-enemy wanted a fight, then Freak would give him a fight to remember, abilities or not, especially if it meant protecting Dexter.

"Come now, Freakazoid, cannot I visit you from time to time?"

"Cut the crap, Gutierrez, what are you _really_ doing here?" Freakazoid whispered harshly, so not to wake up Dexter. He clenched Dexter tighter and cast him a wounded look when Dexter's head lolled onto his shoulder. Then it registered a bit more and Freak's expression melted into anger as he fixed his glare back on Gutierrez.

"No need to whisper, Freakazoid." Gutierrez explained. "You see, I only put the boy into a deep sleep. But don't worry; he'll wake up in a couple of hours."

Well, that was it. Freakazoid jumped off the couch and right onto Gutierrez, successfully knocking him down. "What the hell do you want? I swear if you lay one finger on De-"

But what Freak promised to do, he never got to say, because the villain easily switched their places in a lunge of strength and Freak ended up splayed on the ground, wrists held in the shackle-like grip of the Spaniard while he pinned the hero's body into the carpet, pressing down hard enough to pin the teen, but not enough to crush him as the once-hero wiggled angrily beneath him.

"Now now, my friend, is that any way to greet a guest in your home?" The man's one eye shifted around the Douglas' living room with a slightly disgusted glance from the floor. "No matter how... _humble_ it might be."

Freak growled as a response, only glaring up at the Spaniard, something akin to hate flaring in his eyes.

The former CEO chuckled when he saw the look Freak gave the teen. "You worry much about that little waste of space, when you _should_ worry about yourself."

Nope. It wasn't akin to hate. It _was_ hate.

"He _isn't_ a waste of space," Freak hissed back automatically, finally stilling his attempt to escape, which were futile efforts at best without his super strength. And after a moment Gutierrez's last word hit him, "And why's that?"

"You can't be telling me you don't feel _different_ after being separated from Dexter, Freakazoid, do you?"

Freak silenced his grunts as he became distracted by the man's question. Did he know…?

"No." Then, suspiciously, "Why should I?"

"Because I would think, suddenly having a life, when _all you ever were_ was really a computer virus, would do…._interesting_ things to your psyche." Gutierrez spoke with mild fascination, the type of wonder that a little kid gets from holding a magnifying glass over an ant hill on a sunny day. Freakazoid didn't like that look one bit.

"No…that doesn't matter. Having a life doesn't matter-I'm still the same!" Freak didn't wait for Gutierrez to interrupt him so he simply plowed on, "sure, I may not have my powers-but so what?" He growled. "I don't need them to be a superhero, because I can still save people! I still have Dexter, and Roddy and Steph and-" He stopped when he noticed Gutierrez laughing.

"When will you learn, my dear friend? You're missing something much more important than your powers. You _are_ quite ignorant, aren't you, my boy?"

"So are you, ya big weenie!" Freak shouted back, no longer really listening to Gutierrez's words, too busy focused on the fact the older guy was laughing at him, and that above them on the couch Dexter was still unconscious and _wide freaking open_ should Gutierrez decide to switch targets. Freakazoid couldn't let that happen, he just couldn't.

At this Gutierrez's eyes widened and his face melted from coy concern to real anger. "Don't—call—me—names," he hissed through his teeth, right before he tightened his grip and slammed Freak harder into the floor of the living room, stopping only when he heard a grunt of pain and grinned at the noise. Freakazoid knew the villain hated that word-but that only made him more inclined to use it just to anger the guy. Still, when he had done that long ago it had been when Freakazoid was stronger and in a better position to taunt. This was hardly the case, if Freak's aching spine and bruised ribs had anything to say about it.

"_Fine_." Gutierrez snarled as he increased his hold; Freakazoid's hands scrabbled at Gutierrez's, he couldn't breathe, he was going to choke, right here in Dexter's living room. "I thought giving you a sporting chance would make this more fun-but clearly you are too stupid to listen." Freakazoid didn't answer, he couldn't. His ribs were being pressed down by the super villain—he could barely draw in enough breath to stay conscious, and soon that small amount of breath would not be enough for even that.

'_Gutierrez is…really strong compared to me now,'_ he thought dimly as the sharp pressure was lifted and he could finally inhale again.

Gutierrez watched Freakazoid curl around his stomach out of the corner of his eye, with a blank stare that clearly betrayed his inner joy. "But think about what I've said-we don't have all year, but maybe you'll come around, si?" His accent got thicker when he was just getting down from an angry high.

Freakazoid backed up till his back hit the couch and scrambled to his feet, planting his doubled over form between Gutierrez and the unconscious Dexter. The hand that wasn't lying on his throbbing ribs clenched into a fist. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Are you done now? So you can leave?" He growled, tossing his head toward the front door. He wanted this man away from Dexter and he wanted him away _now_.

The villain smirked and stepped around to the living room door way, pausing in the hallway to point a finger at the powerless hero. "Remember, Freakazoid, that you were a good-for-nothing computer virus in that boy. A _parasite. _Now you are just a good-for-nothing... _nothing_."

With an audible click of the door he was gone, just as quietly as he'd come. A full ten seconds after that door had shut, Freakazoid finally peeled his eyes from the door as his legs gave out and he sank to his knees on the carpet, moaning.

"…Aw, nutbunnies."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: Language picks up here. Thanks to my beta, as always, and thanks to my wonderful readers. **

"_**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**_

_**Chapter 6 **_

"_I guess there's just a part of me that likes to bring you down,  
Just to keep you around.  
Cuz the day that you realize how amazing you are,  
You're gonna leave me…" –_Maria Mena

_Dexter, _

_Good call about not letting Freakazoid go out and patrol. You're right, it wouldn't end well, but I think at this point it's safe to say that the Freak won't be provoked unless something hits close to home. And by that I mean you—_

"Me? What does he mean, me?" Dexter asked the cat.

"Mrow," said Mr. Chubbikins from his lap.

"I think so, too," Dexter replied, fingers scratching behind the cat's ears.

"Nha…." a noise comes from across the room. "Lady in the…dress." Mumbled Freakazoid, who rolled over on his futon and flung an arm out from across the room.

Dexter counted to ten, then waited till he could hear Freakazoid snoring again. After a while he continued reading his mentor's email reply again, sighing a little softly.

_Because I have a feeling that Freakazoid, who was basically more computerized maniac than he was human, you understand, still believes that you, as his alter ego, need to be looked after __**before**__ everything else, even if that means being a hero._

_Keep in mind, lad... the Freak was your other side before he was a hero, and before he was your other half he was a computer flaw. _

Flaw. **Flaw**. Dexter suddenly hated that word. He wasn't mad at Roddy for using it, he just, he was mad that Freakazoid, so amazing and strong and kind, was called a flaw simply because he came from a bug in the Pinnacle Chip. Simply because he had to live in Dexter's brain to survive.

_Logic and reason, even if he doesn't use it, are still the center of his world. As for the lad suddenly losing his blue, from what you're telling me it was sudden and, pardon the expression, out of the blue? There was nothing to provoke it? All the lights in the house still work, the power didn't go out? From my perspective, I can tell ya nothing in the internet went wrong. See if it comes back, if it doesn't, well….then it doesn't. So long as it doesn't interfere with him functioning I don't see it to be a problem. _

_Alright lad, I chewed yer ear enough. Good luck, and stay in touch. _

_ -Roddy MacStew _

Dexter let his head drop onto his keyboard. This was so confusing. And it was only getting worse. He typed a quick reply, a thank you, and made a mental note to pull apart his computer tower tomorrow and check to make sure the pinnacle chip hadn't molded or frizzed out to cause Freakazoid's sudden lack of blue. Even if he wasn't sure that's something the Chip would do, but it couldn't hurt to check, right?

It was weird at first, Dexter realized. Seeing Freakazoid without his blue skin-if he changed the color of his shirt from his trademark red then Dexter would really have trouble knowing who he was from far away.

As if Freakazoid would let him that far away to begin with. Dexter tip-toed to the bathroom down the hall, changed into his nightclothes, and then came back.

He stopped in his doorway for a second, the light from the hallway falling on his alter ego over by the window, fast asleep, mumbling and snoring to prove it. Dexter smiled.

"I don't care what anyone says," Dexter whispered into the darkness of his room as he clambered into bed. "You're not an error. You're a superhero, Freak." He smiles at the ceiling for a moment, then closes his eyes. "And superheroes are perfect."

_**F! **_

The problem with Dexter, Freakazoid decided, was that he didn't see his own worth. Freakazoid wasn't sure himself exactly the lengths it would take to get Dexter's confidence back up after Monday's fiasco. But. as Dexter's alter ego, he was ready and willing to do what he'd have to, and if that meant sticking at his side like a burr than by zoids, he'd do it! He was the Freakazoid, after all—Nothing Was Impossible!

Although maybe this task could be considered Not Impossible But Slightly More of a Challenge Than Freakazoid Expected because, really.

Here it was already Wednesday and Dex was slouching over his notes and writing diligently as the professor spoke in history class. Freakazoid sat next to him, _sort of_ taking notes. And by notes, it more was like writing History II at the top of his paper, skipping a couple lines, then doodling three hippos wearing top hats and fighting with umbrellas... a couple dogs... and Mo-Ron's ship in the corner. Oh, and Foamy at the bottom, eating an ugly boy that had the word Duncan written across his shirt in Freakazoid's loopy, uneven scrawl.

Freakazoid sniggered at his creation, but when he stealthy it showed it to Dexter all the boy did was give him a withering look and pointedly go back to copying the overheard at the front of the room.

Freakazoid sighed and took the hint. He'd been doing the best he could for Dexter, making jokes, sitting by him at lunch. Only Dexter seemed too focused on other things, namely things other than his best friend, because he only nodded or half-smiled at the jokes, and they always ate lunch far away from the rest of the student body, either under a tree on the grounds or on the bleachers.

Today in History, Freak had even pushed their desks together, just to keep that closeness going. The kind old lady who taught them history (she was a good candidate for this job, Freak suspected—she must have been alive for all of this stuff anyway) hadn't said anything, and Dexter had only sunk down a little but let Freak stay. So he stayed.

But no matter how Freakazoid worked or Dexter hid, they both couldn't ignore that massive welt across Dexter's lip. It probably should have gotten stitches, or at least iced after he'd been struck. Now it was black and blue and almost green and maybe an off shade of purple, but no matter what it looked like, to Freakazoid it was still a reminder of what happened. What he'd let happen to Dexter.

That wound was _Freakazoid's_ fault.

Freakazoid's pencil hovered over Duncan's ripped-off leg. He stared at it, but with unseeing eyes.

What those people did to Dexter, it made Freakazoid…**angry**. His brain paused. Angry? Did he, did he even get angry? He got peeved, yes, and ticked. Slighted. Grouchy. Hell, Dexter told him he could pull off one great pout, too. Sure, he didn't have the internet definition to run to any more, but just that word: angry. Freak could tell what it meant by the emotions crawling up his spine at the thought. Angry. Anger.

Hatred. Rage. Wrath. Fury.

Those jocks—they'd _touched_ what was his. _Dexter_ was his, by right. He was Freakazoid's other half, he was his property, and Freakazoid didn't like people touching his things without his permission. And harming them? Purposefully hitting Dexxy? Who was barely one hundred and fifteen pounds soaking wet? Dexxy, who had glasses and was so little? Oh _fuck __**no**_, a whole new dimension of Hell would be opened up, he'd break their fingers. Their noses. A couple more fingers. Pull out their-

Several girls in the front row shrieked when the overhead light suddenly blew right out with a terrific snap, casting the already dark room into near nothingness.

Beside him, Freakazoid felt Dexter jump, and he automatically leaned closer to the little the geek's side.

"…Uh," Dex's whispered next to him. Freakazoid blinked a couple times, telling himself it was to let his eyes adjust to the dark.

The teacher flicked on the lights, and Freak watched her open the door and hurry down the hall to get a replacement bulb, then he looked over at Dexter. Around them, the class chattered and buzzed softly about the incident and about how the school budget was so sucky, but Freakazoid ignored them.

Dexter looked back up at him. "Is….is something wrong?" Dex asked when he noticed that slightly blank gaze from his alter ego.

Freakazoid seemed to come back to himself at Dexter's small voice. "Nothin'," He chirped immediately. "Jeez, Dexxy, how do you write so much-there's more on your paper than there was on the projector!"

"Er, well, I write down what she says too, just in case, y'know…"

"Of course you do, you're so smart!"

Dexter only nodded with a soft, tired smile, but didn't say anything.

After class ended, Dex stood up and stumbled a little, and decided the dizziness he was feeling was from standing up to quickly. Thankfully, Freakazoid didn't notice.

"Freakazoid, do you think you can take the bus home today by yourself?" The question came in last period, math class. The day was nearly done and the teacher was letting them relax after a test and get a breather. The class was mostly chattering, and Dexter poised the question softly in the back of the room where Freakazoid was with him as the once hero stuffed his books away.

"Huh? Yeah, I guess so…" Freakazoid mumbled, tilting his head. "How come Dexxy? Why ain'tcha coming home normal time today?"

Dexter smiled, looking a little more bright-eyed than he had earlier. "I help out in the library today after school—remember?" Freak's face fell a little. The library was the one place he was pretty sure he wouldn't do well in…Dexter seemed to have the same idea, hence what the boy had asked him to just take the regular bus home.

Freakazoid sighed. "Ohkay dokie, Dexter." Oh well, it'd only be a couple hours tops, right? Dexter…Dexter would be fine for a couple of hours safe in the library, where there were plenty of adults around anyway and no jocks and meatheads in the place, right?

Dexter's smile made the funny feeling in Freakazoid's head go away, if only for a moment.

"Thanks, Fredric." If there was a slight tease in the name, no one but Freakazoid noticed.

Freakazoid, against the little bell in his head that usually told him things about Dexter, set off home, whistling. He got off the bus stop with Duncan, who didn't look at him, but was glaring at the sidewalk as Freak trailed after. Fine, let him scowl, Freak couldn't help the grin on his face as he stared at Duncan's back and strutted after him. He didn't walk next to the bully—that was an honor that only Dexxy was allowed.

Duncan broke the silence first as he stomped up the steps to the house and dug out his keys.

"Why the fuck are you still even here?" Dexter's older brother spat out without warning, without even looking at Freakazoid.

In that moment, something inside of Freakazoid changed.

Not-Freak snorted and rolled his eyes. "If ya haven't noticed, dipstick, I _belong_ here." The words were said before Freakazoid realized he said them, and so what if his voice sounded lower than normal?

And Duncan only gaped for a moment, mind processing.

Not-Freak leaned nonchalantly against the porch railing and let him. All poised and steady, his arms folded over his chest. If anyone who knew Freak noticed it, they would say it was the most closed, silently angry posture they'd ever seen from the fun, normally carefree superhero.

But Freakazoid _wasn't_ a superhero anymore, was he? And he certainly was _never_ normal—so why start now? In the back of Freakazoid's mind, he understood that dimly, watching what was going on in the real world from the back of his own head. It wasn't quite the Freakazone but it was... close enough?

"Oh yeah? D'ya? What makes ya say that—" And Duncan looked half tempted to close the door behind himself, only Not-Freakazoid didn't give him a chance. Taking the three steps up to the door in a single little jump, he was through the door and over the threshold, grinning at Duncan; a challenge.

"Be-fucking-cause, _sport_." Not-Freakazoid spit out the nickname with such venom it was a wonder the carpet didn't melt below him.

Duncan shot him a glare, a look of absolute defiance that lasted only for a moment, and then turned belly up and gave in. "…Just…stay outta my fucking way, twink."

Not-Freakazoid smiled darkly and said nothing.

When Duncan closed the basement door, Freakazoid blinked and startled a little at the noise and cast a glance around, more than a bit confused.

Where... where was he? He shook himself, looking around. He was in Dexter's front room. Oh. He must have switched off, come here automatically. He's heard of people doing that, of driving for miles and not remembering the entire drive. Sure, it was possible. But where was Duncan? Didn't he come home on the same bus ride?

"Huh, home already?" He shrugged then bopped upstairs to Dexter's room to wait for his human. Maybe he'd look around for Dexxy's gameboy or play a computer game, because yay computer games!

_**F!**_

Dexter stumbled into his bedroom just as Freakazoid looked up from his Pokémon battle, smile falling when he saw the state Dexter was in.

"…D-Dexter!" The other teen cried, abandoning his Gameboy entirely and shooting up from his futon, scrambling to Dex's side and gasping. Dexter lifted his shoulders, apologetic. He was sporting a nasty nose bleed and his lip had reopened. His tormenter had gone for his face again.

"What-what, I don't understand, are you-are you okay?" Freak grimaced even as the words tumbled from his lips. Stupid, stupid question, he clearly thought from the look on his face. Dex lifted his head and shook it, not wanting Freakazoid to feel sad.

Dexter pulled back, though, when he saw Freakazoid reaching for him. And he caught the hurt look Freak gave him, and god those pouty lips and those big eyes made it worse. Dexter spared him a look of total shame and pity, drawing into himself.

"I'm okay," he murmured, not bothering to wipe the blood away anymore. Not like it mattered, huh?

"Dexter, who…?"

Dexter looked away guiltily, like it was himself who was in trouble, but that was ridiculous.

"F-from Monday, that one guy with the….blonde hair. The l-leader." Oh _crap_, his stutter was back. No. _No._ Dexter screwed his eyes shut as if to will away the tears they both could see, and all he could think was _'How could I be so weak…? Such a loser, what does Freakazoid see in me?'_

Something snapped somewhere that no one ever wanted to break.

"He left bruises," Freakazoid said slowly.

"I figured."

Freakazoid shakes his head. "On you."

"Yeah."

"…Do they hurt?" he answered his own question when Dexter tensed at the touch. Freakazoid's bright blue eyes were suddenly either really big, or his pupils were suddenly too small. Dexter couldn't tell, but he felt lost in those deep blue eyes. Then he heard Freakazoid's voice, and the spell was broken.

"He's gonna fucking die."

"W-what!"

Freakazoid stared at Dexter, his eyebrows knitted together. "Uh…that was weird. I felt funny…for a second," the once hero frowned slightly, rubbing his forehead. Dexter suddenly felt like he was missing something important about this, some major sign or a moment of turning that was going to change everything. Like... literally everything.

"Oh well." Freakazoid shrugged and gently took hold of Dexter's arm, tugging him lightly but insistently toward the bathroom down the hall. "Let's get you cleaned up, Dexxy," he said, voice soft and gentle again, one hundred percent focused back on Dexter.

Dexter, for his part, chalked it up to getting hit too hard and hearing things. Unlike Freakazoid, he didn't push away the tingling in the back of his head, but he carefully filed it away and promised to think about it again. At a time when he wasn't bleeding and hurting so badly, both inside and out.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This may seem obvious, but keep an eye on the songs I've been using. There's not just great songs…they have a lot, and I mean a LOT to do with the chapters they show up in. Remember, everything happens for a reason! **

"_**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**_

_**Chapter 7**_

"_Our time is running out, our time is running out, you can't push it underground, you can't stop it screaming out…" _-Muse

Freakazoid may have hated mornings, and weekdays, and school and boring work just in general, but there was one major thing he loved to pieces (besides his little geek, of course,) and that was the second-to-last day of the week.

"_**FRIDAY!**_ Zoids, I'd thought it'd never come, Dex!"

Dexter grinned, ignoring how the motion pulled at his healing lip. "You and me both... hey, are you still gonna head to Mike's to meet up with Steph?"

"Yeah!"

Dexter was glad to hear that. It had taken a lot to convince Freak to leave Dex alone after Wednesday's fiasco, even for just an afternoon. Dex had been the one to set it up, telling Steph over the phone that 'he' would meet her at the smoothie parlor because he wanted to hear how her trip went. Steph, while hesitant over meeting Dorkster Douglas, knew that he and Freakazoid were the same person, and, well, she liked Freak.

It was going to be a surprise for Steph to see Freakazoid like this—but Dexter had the feeling it would make her happy, and that's all he wanted. He'd then convinced Freak to go in his place, saying that Dexter wasn't lying, that technically one half of him _was_ showing up, and anyway Dexter knew that Freak was anxious to see their only (well, other than Weena) female friend.

Anxious or not, this didn't stop Freak from walking Dexter home and making sure he was safe and sound before he finally turned to head out.

"Freakazoid..?" Dexter called quietly from where he sat at the kitchen table.

Freak glanced over his shoulder wordlessly, but there was clear query in his eyes.

"Have fun."

Freakazoid beamed.

_**F!**_

Oddly enough, Steph didn't wig out and scream when this weird guy with black circle on his red shirt and white streaks in his floppy black hair plopped down on a stool next to her at Mike's counter. She blinked at him, raised one pretty eyebrow and parted her lips to say something, but Freakazoid was too excited to stop himself.

"Hi, Steph!"

She didn't break out the pepper spray, either, which was also really nice of her, Freakazoid thought as he saw recognition dawn on her. He wondered if it was the hair or the color of his clothes, maybe-sometimes he wished he still had the _F!_ symbol on his chest for moments like these. It was better than any name tag.

"…Fr…Freak….is that..."she shook her head, incredulous. "It can't be!"

Freak grinned, nodded so hard it looked like his head was in danger of falling off his shoulders. "It is! It's me! FRE—"

Mike coughed suddenly, causing the two teens to look over at the parlor owner. "Careful, Mister F, might not be such a good idea yellin' that, okay? Anyway, the little lady _knows_ it's you."

"Right, okay, Mike…can I get—"

"Your usual?" Mike was already setting the papaya smoothie down before Freak could finish the request, and Freakazoid looked like Halloween had come early.

"Thanks Mike!" and with that he turned back to the still semi-stunned Stephanie beside him. He sucked down several sips nosily for a second and looked at her with those blue eyes and maybe that's what did it for his blonde friend, because she suddenly seemed to find her voice.

"But how… where's Dexter?" she finally blurted for lack of better thing to ask. This was a lot to take in, Freak didn't blame her for asking about the one person who could make sense of him.

"At home, doing things that Dexxies do, I guess. Homework, probably. Or fiddling with the computer, or being smothered by the cat or something." He chuckled, his geek was so cute sometimes. "We got split up, I'm human now!"

"Inside voice, Mister F," Mike warned gently, and was (politely) ignored.

And so Freakazoid got to lapse into explanation about how not more than a week ago things were both Going Normally and Going Well,…and then suddenly during a stake out they were going Less Than Well, and the machine, and the bright light. Now Freak did leave out Gutierrez's…visit, if only so he didn't worry Steph.

It was going all well and dandy until Steph mentioned Dexter, and asked how well he was doing through all this. "He didn't get hurt from you two being…" She winced. "_Split,_did he?"

Freakazoid looked at her funny for a second, opening his mouth to reply. She continued, raising her hands. "He's a sweet kid, I mean—look, my feelings for Dexter are as platonic as the Euthydemus Dialogue, but... nobody deserves to be _ripped apart,_ you know? Is that even possible?"

And Freakazoid glanced away, blinking, looking down. "Well…he was doing great until Wednesday…some weenies beat him up just because—" he hated realizing that they'd targeted Dexter because Freakazoid had challenged them. But maybe that was giving them too much credit. "Because... he was _there_, I guess."

And Steph frowned, sympathetic. "Freak, he wasn't hurt... bad was he? I mean…" She winced. "Not more than... not more than he has been before?"

"No, he's okay now. I think." Freak shook his head. "It just…really made me…" He paused. "Peeved. It made me _real _peeved. And, and... he doesn't even fight back!"

"Freak, you know that about Dexter, though." She didn't need to say 'better than anyone.' They both knew that already. That look from Steph made Freakazoid nervous. And when Freakazoid got nervous, he rambled. A lot.

"But it's just, Steph, every time he's hurt, and he gets hurt a LOT, he always flinching now and it's my fault but he never lets me—"

Steph interrupted him. "You care about him."

"Of _course_ I care about him! He's my other half!" Freakazoid snapped, hurt at being interrupted. "And he won't let me do anything to help him when I'm _supposed_ to!"

"Well, what is it you want to do?" Steph asked immediately.

And that made Freakazoid pause.

"I…" Freakazoid hung his head. "I just want him to be okay," he finally murmured, hanging his head a little.

And that made Steph smile slightly, her voice sympathetic when she laid a hand over one of his. "Oh, Freak," He looked up at her, clearly a little lost. "I'm sure Dexter knows that, he's a sweet guy like you. Just give him time, it's got to be a lot on him, suddenly the both of you are, _real_, at the same time. I can't imagine how that is, for the _both_ of you." Freakazoid nodded, eyes on the counter. Steph continued, still speaking softly, "That's not to say it's your fault, Freakazoid, I know you'd never hurt him, and you'd never let anything else hurt him, right?"

"That's it, that's it exactly, Steph, I just, I…." Freakazoid bit his lip, big vulnerable eyes on his female friend. "I just wanna be his hero. I wanna be able to protect him…"

Stephanie nodded, tightening her hand on his. "I know, Freakazoid, I know."

_**F!**_

While Freakazoid was talking with Steph, Dexter was talking to Duncan. Well, no. "Talking to" was exactly the same as "being yelled at by" in this situation. In basically any situation, with Duncan.

"Dammit, you little twerp, I failed my math test because of you!" This _was_ Duncan, after all.

Dexter backed up from his looming, furious older brother and stared up at his face, drawing down into his collar like a turtle in its shell. His back hit the staircase and he wondered, vaguely, if he could get up the stairs fast enough to make it to his room and be spared a beating.

' _And the best part is…Duncan will tell mom and dad my bruises are from other kids. From the last time. And they'll believe him.'_ The only one who ever believed Dexter wasn't here right now to protect him-and both of them knew that. Duncan was delighted.

"Duncan, t-the only reason you failed was because you didn't study, mom said—"

"I don't care what mom said, dipshit! You can't even tutor your own brother! What kind of loser fails at _that _too!" Only, Duncan was wrong and they both knew it. Dexter was a great tutor, he helped other kids all the time, and their grades got better. That was one of the things Dexter considered himself _useful_ for when it came to high school. And now Duncan was trying to take _that_ away from him, too.

Dexter blinked back the tears that threatened to well up. His chest ached and his brain scrambled for an exit. But the words _'Freak out'_ were about as helpful to him at this point as concrete flippers would be to a diver.

'_I really __**am**__ alone this time, I don't even have Freakazoid…maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Maybe I really am useless.'_

And then Duncan's spine straightened, he snorted, one fist around his crumpled test paper. The angry red pen mark of 'F' was barely legible from Dexter's view, but his imagination filled in the blanks, like exactly what Duncan might do about such a bad grade.

And just as Duncan reeled back his fist, and the world came to a standstill, Dexter screwed his eyes shut and _froze_, arms up defensively. _ Dexter. Didn't. Want. This._

There was a loud shattering noise. And this time it was Duncan's turn to freeze.

A long moment passed and no strikes came—and Dexter lowered his arms from his face, opened his eyes and—what was that glow? Well, it went away when he blinked, was it coming from his _eyes?_ He looked around, eyes pausing on the shards of vase on the floor directly to Duncan's right.

'_What…?'_

"The hell…the hell was _that?" _Duncan whirled around, then whipped up to look at Dexter, still backed against the wall and Dexter saw his own fear and confusion reflected in Duncan's face.

Duncan didn't know what had happened, either? So he didn't do it?

"What the fuck was_ THAT?_" Duncan snapped, voice raising. Dexter just shook, petrified just as Duncan was, but as his older brother focused on the vase on the floor, Dexter backed quietly up the carpeted stairs. By the time Duncan had noticed Dexter missing, the geek had already slammed the door to his bedroom up on the second floor, pressed his back against it and was panting from the adrenaline.

He heard the lock on the door _click_ audibly into place….and then Dexter realized it was lockable only from the inside, and he hadn't touched it.

There was that glow again. Was he seeing things? When he blinked it went away, but it was enough to make him numbly think _'This is __**not**__ good.'_

The geek stumbled over to his computer chair, fumbled for his keypad and even in his startled, confused state, managed out an email to Roddy as quick as could be. He was in such a rush he didn't even title it, just hit Enter and took a couple deep breaths.

Roddy must have been near a computer, or most likely was IN the internet somewhere, because Dexter got a reply not five minutes later. This reply came by Dexter's screen illuminating and a wall of energy beaming out. The geek yelped and scrambled out of his mentor's way as Roddy's physical body reformed, touching down on the carpet lightly.

As soon as Roddy looked solid, Dexter managed out a weak "Uh, hi….Roddy." The Scotsman, who'd come out facing away from the computer, turned around at Dexter's voice and gave him a once over.

"What happened lad, are ye' alright?" The concern in Roddy's voice was palpable and for that, Dexter was grateful.

Dexter nodded dumbly, getting to his feet to show that minus the old bruises, nothing was new. "This is from….a couple days ago," Dex explained when Roddy's eyes fell on his wounded lip. Roddy nodded.

"I came as soon as I read yer email, lad." His eyes narrow. "What's this about a vase?"

And Dexter, scared and alone and missing his other half, just shook his head and looked _lost_. "I-I don't _know_!" he squeaked, wringing his hands. "Duncan was, talking to me and stuff and he went to-to hit me and, and, I don't know, I closed my eyes, I was scared and—the vase—it just _went!" _Dexter finished his explanation of the event with his skinny arms in the air to show the explosion of the flying vase.

Roddy MacStew stared. And then he saw the lad's wide eyes flash a luminescent _blue_ and then it clicked into place. "Oh lad….oh Dexter m'boy." Roddy shook his head a second, stunned. "…_Crud_."

_**F!**_

When Freakazoid got home, he bopped on up the steps, flung open the door and prepared to give out a happy cry of "I'm _HOME!_" into the house. What he _actually_ got to do was something very different than that. He got a sudden close up of a frightened Dexxy, who'd met him at the door and tugged him into the house, up the stairs and into their shared bedroom without so much as a hello.

Freakazoid glanced over his shoulder to see Dexter slam the door, and the black-haired teen look over to Roddy, who was sitting in Dex's computer chair. Freakazoid, for his part, paused in the middle of the room. "Uh….is this an intervention?" he started slowly, confused as all get out and more than a tiny tad worried. "I swear, I can quit Pokemon any time I want!"

Roddy raised an eyebrow. "What'n the name of haggis are you talking about?"

"Oh," Freak said, and suddenly all his worries for his level 78 Porygon dissipated.

"No, no lad of course it's not an intervention. But we have to discuss something that's, ah..." Roddy fumbled for words. "Pretty…important."

Freak blinked and looked over at Dexxy, who was standing with his back to the door and looking so adorably sheepish. He caught Freakazoid looking at him and he ducked his eyes to the floor, chewing on his lip. At that Freak crossed the room back to his other half and leaned down to check the little geek over. His eyes stayed on Dexter's healing lip a little too long, but he found himself saying "Dexter…?"

Dex's brown eyes flicked up to meet Freak's and it was then the powerless hero could see the hint of fear swirling in them. It broke Freak's heart, and he didn't even know what was wrong. He moved so that he was right next to Dexxy and slung an arm over the nerd's shoulders, holding him close and silently letting him know he was there for him, whatever it was that was going on.

Roddy nodded encouragingly at Dexter to start, and while Dex looked mildly horrified for a second, he rallied his courage, gripped Freak's shirt with pale fingers and then started re-telling what had transgressed while his alter ego had been gone.

Freakazoid kept his arm around Dexter's thin shoulders for the entire story but looked over at Roddy for confirmation when Dexter had finished, trailing off lamely about how much his mother had liked that vase, and now it was in shards on floor.

"And, and now Roddy's saying…saying well, he's saying I've got powers... or something."

Their mentor nodded. "Aye, I was wrong before. Remember when I thought ye were developin' telekinesis, laddy? Well, that wasn't your power, that's why you had trouble with it! It was _Dexter's_."

Freakazoid and Dexter stared. Then Freak's eyebrows furrowed. "So wait then, who has the superpowers, I'm confused, Roddy."

Roddy shook his head. "No, the original powers, the electricity, the strength, speed all of it…that's YOU, Freakazoid." But then he turned to Dexter, still sitting at Freak's side. "The reason it was so hard for Freakazoid to control telekinesis…because it was _you,_ Dexter, it was _your_ mind from keeping the Freak in check so well for so long." He smiled. "Think about it, telekinesis wasn't Freak's in the first place, it was yours! Yer mental capacity, lad, to house Freakazoid in yer brain n'body, had to be immense enough already." And Roddy paused at this, thinking. "The fact you did it so well fer so long, it was really just a matter of time before ye started showing a _change_."

Dexter's brain reeled. _He_ had the telekinesis? "B-but how, I mean, why?" he stuttered, leaning against his best friend's side. Freakazoid smiled reassuringly and held Dexter up with hesitance.

"So, uh, wait," Freak said, holding up a hand, "Uhm, so... he got the televisionetics as, like... a, a coping mechanism? Or something? Or did I just, um, rub off on him or something?"

"How, how?" Dexter squeaked.

The Scotsman shrugged. "After all this time, Dexter, did ye really not expect to be changed by Freakazoid? Even when he's a split personality... he's still an entirely different person." He paused for a second. "It's interesting that it's a mental power, too," Roddy seemed to muse out loud. "Think 'bout it. Freak has speed, strength, all physical things. Telekinesis, that's sorta the opposite of Freakazoid's powers... well, most of them. It was a way to keep the Freak in control, if I'd have to wager." He sighed, ran a hand over his face. "We should keep an eye on this, boys, especially with you just losing your blue earlier this week." He glanced at Freakazoid for that, then went on. "If Dexter had this power to keep you in check, and yet you're no longer showing any signs of needing to BE held in check…then what point is it for the skills to still be so ever present?"

And Dexter understood that, it made sense, even if it opened more questions than it answered. Really, what reason _was_ there for Dexter to have powers when Freak's had been stripped of his? Unless Freakazoid was getting his powers back—which he wasn't. He would have told Dexter. The two of them would have noticed.

And then Freak's voice broke the two's thoughts, though he was looking down at Dexter was he spoke quietly. "Dexter? You okay?"

And Dexter smiled. Still the same old Freak. He mirrored Freakazoid's actions and squeezed back the one armed hug reassuringly. "I'm okay, I mean I am now…really, Freak," he added when Freak didn't exactly look convinced.

But if Freak had any concerns other than Dex's well-being, he didn't voice them. His face split into a grin and he nodded, "Well then, that's good enough for me, Dexxy! Wow, so it was you all along with the moving things with your mind stuff, telephonesis or whatever," he laughed, "this'll be great!"

Dexter just grinned, didn't bother to correct Freak on his incredibly poor pronunciation.

"Be careful with that, lads, it could tire you out at first... and I'm not even sure how long the powers'll stick around." Roddy warned as he opened the internet on Dexter's computer.

"I'll be going to check up on this, trust me. If I learn anything, I'll let ye know, arright?"

Both boys nodded, and a feeling of déjà vu hung over all of them as Roddy leapt back into the computer monitor and disappeared.

It was only when Roddy was gone and Dexter's computer had stopped glowing that Dexter finally appeared to come back to reality and straightened up. Freakazoid let Dexter pull away reluctantly. "Dex…? I'm sorry I wasn't here for Duncan…"

And that made the geek pause. "Huh? Oh, Freakazoid, no, it's okay, don't worry about it." He smiled weakly, the action made his lip sting. "It's okay, I promise."

Freakazoid nodded, looking just a little sad. It was that look that made Dexter pat Freak's arm and go, "it's just us tonight for dinner…want me to make frozen pizza?"

And Freak lit up like a Christmas tree. "_DO I!_"

Dexter laughed at that, suggested Freak play something on the computer until dinner was ready and headed downstairs after that.

"Okay, Dexxy!" Freakazoid chirped.

But the whole telekinesis-powers thing was a lot for Dexter to take in, and he felt tired after the whole afternoon had taken place. Duncan was gone off…somewhere, it didn't matter, his parents were out for the night until late. Freakazoid was upstairs safe in the house. Dexter put the pizza in the oven and stumbled into the living room, staring at the couch blankly.

' _I had the powers…the 'mental capacity' because of Freakazoid…and yet he's gone and I still have them. Why?'_

Dexter sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fists, making his glasses lopsided. He was super tired after that, and fading fast. It didn't seem worth it to try and get all the way upstairs. He settled onto the couch, lying down.

'_Maybe I'll just close my eyes…for a little while.'_

_**F!**_

Around three and a half hours later, Freakazoid waltzed down the stairs into the living room, whistling. He expected Dexxy to be up and about somewhere, so he spoke with a nice, outside-volume voice as he pranced into the kitchen.

"Dexxy! Can't believe I just played PlacerRacer for like, almost four hours!" he chuckled, glancing around. "I mean I love computer games but I…." He noticed the lack of anything Dexter-related and paused. The kitchen was completely derelict, save the charred, ashy remains of what appeared to at one point be a pizza in the oven.

"…Dex?"

No answer.

Freakazoid calmly exited the kitchen, headed past the staircase, and peered into the living room. The lights were off, and the room was mostly dark. Not so long ago this wouldn't matter, Freakazoid had the power to see in the dark—hell, for that matter he basically used to _glow_ in the pitch black, but now…

"Dexter?" A couple warning bells went off in the back of the once-super teen's head.

"…_Deexxxter_?" Silence. So Freakazoid walked around to the front of the couch.

And Freakazoid let out sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Dexter was sitting on the couch alright, but slumped back and leaning a little onto one of the pillows by an arm rest. The cushions seemed to swallow his thin body up, Dexter's head tipped back, lashes lowered and shoulders tucked in up to his ears from his hunched position.

"Dexter? Dexxy, are you okay?" He found himself saying that last part without really thinking about it. And when he did think about Freakazoid frowned to himself. Of course Dexter was okay, why wouldn't he be?

He just was asleep, was all.

Freak looked down at the geek's still body, reached a tentative hand and brushed Dexter's cheek with a finger. He completed a trail from under his glasses to just under his jaw bone and pulled back, staring.

And then….Freakazoid blinked, and the spell was broken. "…Oi, Dexter," Freakazoid mumbled fondly and stepped closer till his knees hit the couch. It was pretty easy to reach down and scoop Dexter right up, one arm in the crook of his knees and the other curled around his shoulders. A moment later Dexter lifted his head but let it drop down onto Freak's shoulder, his cheek pressed into the soft fabric of Freakazoid's tee. He muttered something, but Freak only chuckled. "You can't stay here Dexxy, time for bed."

Dexter wasn't coherent enough to hear him but Freakazoid didn't really mind.

A quick look to the clock on the wall alerted Freakazoid to the fact it was only five pm. And in the back of his mind, yes, Freakazoid knew he should be worried about this, somehow. Five o'clock was most certainly _not_ Dexxy's bedtime, maybe he was coming down with a virus (or a cold, as Dexter called them) or something?

Then again, maybe he wasn't.

"Freakazoid…really, I'm fine." Dexter muttered as he felt himself carried up to the second floor and down the hall.

"Nahh, Dexxy, I think it's time for bed, okay?"

"…Nh," was Dexter's answer. He really couldn't find the strength to say much more. Or do anything for that matter. His body felt like lead in Freakazoid's arms and the sudden weakness was weird and, if Dexter had been just a little more awake, it would have been even more worrisome. As it was, Freakazoid got his other half into bed and tucked up without another word from the little geek.

And just as Freak stepped back from Dexter's bed, his computer _pinged!_ quietly and startled the black haired guy. "Huh? Dex must've left his computer on…" Freak muttered softly. Plopping down gracelessly into the computer chair, Freakazoid flicked his eyes over the screen. A chat box had popped up.

_P. Chip: dexter are you there_

Freakazoid's face fell into a little frown, fingers hovering over the keypad. Should he…respond? Tell them Dexter was there or just ignore them? No, that would be rude. So he responded.

_FreakGeek: No, sorry, this is his..._ Erh. Better go with the easiest answer.

_FreakGeek: No, sorry, this is his best friend._

There was a pause. Freak listened to Dex's computer tower whirring softly. It was a comforting, familiar noise.

___P. Chip_: ok thank you

And Freakazoid wasn't sure what made him type this next thing, but he hit Enter before he realized what he was doing.

_FreakGeek: Do you need him for something orrr?_

Another odd sort of pause, like the responder was taking a while to answer.

___P. Chip_: yes but it can wait for now will he be on later

Now, really. That was just poor grammar. What, was the guy using a command prompt to talk to him from? Zoids, a simple question mark wasn't that hard. Capitalization wasn't hard, either.

_FreakGeek: Yeah, probably. He's just taking a nap. Sure I can't take a message?_

The computer pinged much faster this time.

___P. Chip_: I am sure thank you

And the user signed off. Or…appeared to have signed off. He could just have well gone invisible. But, hey, whatever. Freakazoid shrugged. He'd ask Dexter about it in the morning, when Dexxy wasn't passed out in bed. Freakazoid yawned and moved over to his beloved futon in the corner, flopping under the blankets.

And just as he fell asleep did the thought that how weird the guy's name was strike him. "Oh well, takes all kind I guess…" Freakazoid muttered dimly to the dark room as he fell asleep.

_**F!**_

"In short, he says you'll live." Dexter chuckled softly as the doctor left, pulling the curtain closed.

Freakazoid looked at him like he was crazy. "Of course I'm going to live, Dexxy. It's a sprained ankle. How many people do you know die of sprained ankles?"

"None that I can think of. At least you are fortunate enough to be able to hobble around on crutches for the next few days."

"Oh yeah, _that_ sounds like so much fun…" Freak sighed. "And we live in a second floor house too, oh god, stairs are going to be a fun adventure." He made a face.

"Well," said Dexter grinning from ear to ear, "I could always carry you up the stairs."

"What, like a bride on her wedding night? I'm not wearing a dress for anybody, not even you."

"Ha, you would look so hot in white, though." Dexter feigned a pout for a moment before he cracked a lopsided smile. "No, I was thinking more fireman over-the-shoulder thing."

"Yeah, just like a sack of potatoes. Of course, my head would be right near your-"

"Don't try and pretend like that would bother you. It's not like you haven't seen it before."

"Good point. And it's not like I wouldn't mind seeing it again." The look on Freakazoid's face was evil and Dexter could almost swear he heard the gears turning in the black-haired teen's plan filled-head.

"What are you thinking?" Dexter knew he didn't really have to ask. He had a pretty good idea he knew what was going though Freakazoid's head.

But as Freakazoid rambled on about mince meat pie and the difference between turtles and tortoises, Dexter couldn't help but think about things like how odd it was to see the great hero Freakzoid in a hospital bed, surrounding by machines and hung up by wires. How the pain Freak was in was only because he was human and therefore susceptible to injury.

_How it was Dexter's fault that Freakazoid was human because he hadn't warned him in time…_

A loud thump brought him back to reality as Freakazoid heaved himself and his injured leg over the edge of the hospital bed. Dexter blinked. "Wow, well at least I know you don't have a concussion or anything. You're still as crazy as ever."

"You know you like it."

"Yes, yes I do. Maybe not so much in public, but yes, I like it."

"Yeah, you always were the shy, conservative one."

"And you were always the 'Loud and Proud' type."

"But that works for me, just like shy works for you. It's one of the many reasons I love you." Freakazoid grinned cockily. It was familiar and it was so Freakazoid and it made Dexter relax automatically. And then Freakazoid spoke again and... it was different. Incredibly different. Low. Angry. "Remember when you told me to leave?"

Dexter's eye shot up sharply to meet Freakazoid's dark gaze. "What?" This wasn't in the script. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Freakazoid continued, still angry, voice grinding. "Remember when you told me to get out of your life?"

"F-Fre-" It was too late, Dexter's vision blackened around the edges as Freakazoid roughly shoved him away, knocking Dexter into a hospital chair that wasn't_ there_ anymore, and he tumbled backwards into nothing, arms pinwheeling.

He fell past Roddy and Cosgrove, _('When did they get here…?'_) who he reached out to, but who looked away from him, disappointment darkening their faces.

"_You're better off not in my life!" _Freakazoid shouted—in Dexter's voice.

Dexter woke up with a yell, sitting up sharply—so sharply, in fact, that he nearly toppled off the bed he was crammed onto, and would have—had a hand not struck out and grabbed the back of his shirt, tugging him back down into a strong chest as Dexter's startled yell turned to a weak whimper. More trickled out of his throat when he realized the chest to be Freakazoid, of all people, who was obviously awake and alert, and had been maybe watching him sleep. In fact, not only was Dexter lying against a chest, there were strong arms holding him gentle and secure. It was comforting but couldn't quite chase away his nightmares.

Dexter couldn't stop trembling. Freakazoid just held Dexter tighter, whispering in his ear that he was there, and would not let anything happen to him. God, Freakazoid always knows just what to say, always knows how to make him feel better. It took a long time, but Dexter finally stopped crying and actually managed to fall back asleep in Freakazoid' arms, the nightmares gone, replaced with a gentle _lack_ of dreaming.

_**F!**_

Fully awake now after that disaster-and no longer wanting to go back to sleep anyway, for fear of Dexter needing him again before dawn struck, Freakazoid rested his chin atop Dexter's skull and waited for the sun to rise.

Despite the fact that he was tired, despite the fact that it was somewhere around four or five AM, sleep did not strike Freakazoid.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I apologize in advance for Freak's language... also, trivia: Mr. Golding is named after the author of a famous book about human nature and its evils. And a conch shell.**

"**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**

_**Chapter 8**_

"_You got wires, going in; you got wires, coming out of your skin. There's dry blood, on your wrist, your dry blood on my fingertip…" –Athlete _

There was something wrong with Dexter, and everyone could see it.

The problem was that Dexter was not letting anyone panic, or God forbid, baby him. In fact, he'd made the decision to go back to school come Monday, despite Freakazoid's pleading for him to take a break and Roddy's ominous warning to not push himself.

"Guys, I'll be _fine._ I was just a little tired, that's all!" Dexter had spoken these words only that morning, to Freak in his room and over to Roddy through a video chat.

"But Dexxy, seriously, last night you—" Dexter cut Freak off with a look. That nightmare hadn't meant anything to Dex, but Freak didn't look convinced.

Then Roddy's voice came over his computer speakers, "Lad, if ye' really think ye can we can't stop yah. But use yer better judgment, arright?"

Dexter sighed. "Yes, Roddy, I will. Of course." This conversation was tiring him and felt slightly one-sided, but he didn't say so. He just wanted to go to school, okay? He just wanted to feel normal again. He wasn't an invalid, he was perfectly able to do anything he normally could.

Thankfully at this point the bus arrived, and Freak's slight whine of "but you killed a pizza!" went ignored.

'_I'm not sick, no fever, no nothing. Just a little tired, that's all. I'm eighteen for gosh sake's…what, do they think I'm just going to collapse walking down the halls?'_ Apparently Freakazoid did assume something like Dexter spontaneously collapsing, because he tried to practically carry Dexter to his English class, his arm slung around Dexter's waist, gently holding him up.

"Look, Freak! Freak! I'm fine!" He groaned and tried to shove him away, but it was like a kitten shoving at a sabertooth. "Freak, let go, I swear I'm okay!"

Freakazoid gnawed at his lip. "I... do you swear?"

"Yes!"

"Pinky swear?"

Dexter held out a pinky, linking it with Freak's for a split second. "Yes, now go to class!"

Freak grinned, let him go, and with only a moment's hesitation, bounded off. Dexter silently thanked whatever deity was listening for the miracle, and managed to make it to Mr. Golding's class unharmed and unembarrassed by his best friend.

So here Dexter sat in English, a little sleepy, but he hadn't expected anything different. He'd caught only a few z's the library's back room, and it was now last period. It wouldn't be the first time he'd napped at school, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

'_I really like Mr. Golding's class, but…does he have to turn off the lights even when he's not using the overhead?' _Dexter blinked and forced his mind to focus on his teacher's words, even though it was incredibly dark, dark enough so that he easily could fall asleep.

"…Human nature is not a binary system, it is neither 'good' nor 'bad' overall,' Mr. Golding said, pacing back and forth across the room. "People in general have been genetically endowed by evolution with a wide variety of tendencies and capacities that respond to—but are not necessarily controlled or determined by—their environment." Mr. Golding continued on. "Now, the brain contains many chambers, ones that trigger memories, hunger, sexual arousal," a few immature idiots in the back row snickered. Mr. Golding shot them a glare, "and so forth. However, there is one part of your brain that is rather ambiguous to human beings. This section of the brain is where we get our _instant_ reactions to act the way we do." Someone coughed tiredly in the back of the class but nothing else was said. A fly buzzed around an overhead light. Mr. Golding continued to speak to his 'captivated' audience.

"This isn't as simple as it seems, though. Do we act kindly and well natured by instinct? People like Mahatma Gandhi, and Mother Theresa would like to think so. Or do we act in a negative, more primitive and bloodthirsty way, like Adolph Hitler or Ted Bundy?"

For a while, Dexter did keep his focus. He even got his hand to write down some of the key terms Mr. Golding spoke about. It was still on the subject of humanity's better and worse natures, key aspects being the thousand-page book they were reading _Better Angels of Our Nature_ by Steven Pinker.

The portly man moved around the room as he spoke. He spared his best student a glance, as if to see if Dexter was going to break out into any more absurdities on superheroes. He did not, of course, and so the man continued to the sleepy, silent room, his voice droning on.

"Pinker talks about the challenge at this stage of evolution of to recognizing that 'human nature' is richly diverse and flexible, but of course we all know that, whether we are conscious of it or not. The internet is a fine example; there is nothing more diverse or complexly systematic than perhaps our own brains. And there is also nothing more…" Mr. Golding paused as if to increase dramatic tension. "_Dangerous_."

It didn't work; the fly had traveled all the way over the window and was now charging the glass at random intervals. _'Freak'd sure enjoy today's class if he were still…here.'_ Into his notebook, Dexter sighed a little wistfully, and tried again to focus on his teacher's lecturing. It wasn't as if he could _miss _Freak, was it? Freak was still with him all the time... just... differently...

"Perhaps our task is to use our powers of consciousness, intelligence, and choice to explore the full range of who we _are_ and _can be_ in various circumstances, aiming both to accept our whole selves _and_ to co-create more life-serving, meaningful and joyful ways of being together."

'_Oh gosh, I still have to read those chapters from last week's assignment, crap...!'_

"Pinker also goes to talk about in the latest chapter you've read, that nature is more evil than good, because of the examples that people like the ones mentioned have acted, by our primitive urges that we have inherited from our Neanderthal fore-fathers, and by our instinct to protect ourselves over all others."

That last part was spoken into the quiet room and Dexter's pencil paused._ 'Protect ourselves…over all others.'_ His mind repeated the words slowly for once. And somewhere in the back of his head, where maybe a couch and TV used to reside, came the thought that _'Freakazoid wasn't like that, ever…so maybe not ALL human nature isn't more evil than it is good…but then…was Freakazoid ever really __**human**__ to begin with, or was that my—' _

The bell rang, and everyone either jumped, snorted awake or nearly toppled out of their seats. Dexter didn't do anything of those things, but he did blink quickly, startled from his thoughts. His eyes refocused on his notebook before him.

Mr. Golding still tried to get one more word in as everyone around Dexter started packing up and leaving. On autopilot, Dexter did too. But his teacher's voice escalated in volume and followed them out the room and into the hall.

"Human nature may be evil—but that does not limit the capabilities of good to come forth! Remember, papers due a week and half after tomorrow!"

After that, Dexter just headed for the bus, didn't bother stopping at his locker. He was exhausted and, quite frankly, wanted nothing more than to go home. They'd just rented The Iron Giant, at Dex's insistence, and The Princess Bride at Freak's, and Dexter just wanted to curl on the couch with Freakazoid and watch movies until oblivion.

'_Freakazoid will make it better. Freakazoid makes everything better…I guess that's what being a superhero's all about, though.' _

_**F!**_

When Freakazoid 2.0 heard the front door downstairs shut, he sneered.

The old, beta-test Freakazoid did not sneer. But THIS Freakazoid was _new and improved_, and dammit, he was ready to have some fun with the little twerp that used to house his mind. Why the hell not? He was entitled to it, after all. No one else owned Dexxy but him, thank you very much. Dexxy was just a vessel. _Freakazoid's_ vessel.

This new Freakazoid stepped out from behind Dexter's desk, shoving the furniture back into place with one arm. His other hand swung a cord around in neat circles, aimlessly. The cord led to the computer tower sitting on the desk.

"Now that _you're_ outta the way," Freakazoid chuckled as he stared at the black screen of Dexter's computer, "I get the little twink _allllll_ to myself." He dropped the cord and settled down into Dexter's computer chair, deep blue eyes on the door across the room.

As Dexter Douglas stepped into his room, Freakazoid 2.0 let his eyes wander, just a second, over those skinny shoulder holding up that huge book bag, that thin hand gripping the door knob, Dexter's lip twisting as the geek rubbed one eye with the heel of his palm. God. The Chip had at least chosen a decent vessel, Freakazoid will give the stupid thing that much credit.

And then Dexter speaks in his small, meek voice to match his small, meek body. "Hey, Freak."

Big blue eyes flashed, and Freakazoid forced his smile to resemble something less…predatory.

Oh, this was going to be _such fun. _

Dexter was oblivious, of course he was, walking right over to Freak's open arms, clueless to any other intentions that this version of Freakazoid might have other than honest affection. This Freakazoid was a little sick of honesty at the moment, to be honest. Haha, irony. It was time to start doing stuff for himself.

Dexter had apparently been babbling this whole time; Freak tuned in to hear the end. "...An essay due for Mrs. Podgers, that's history. But that's not until the 12th so, I've got time. Problems 1 through 50 for Mr. Blake—that's math, though I don't get why I have I don't have to show my work, all the other kids do,—and uhm….oh yeah."

And to play along Freakazoid lifted his eyes to meet Dexter's, feigning interest. "Oh yeah what?"

"And I…need to make a cake..." The light dust of red over the twink's nose really wasn't helping Dex's case. Honestly, the little thing was so pathetic. Freakazoid was going to _ruin _him.

"Really Dex? A cake?" How girly could he_ get?_ Freakazoid snorted, looked away. "Ya gotta be shittin' me." But he heard Dexter huff.

"No, I am not—" Dexter started, then stumbled over his words. Freakazoid smiled, for he knew there's no way the other would curse like that. Dexter continued. "I am not. And besides, it's really for my FACs class. I know," he noticed the puppy-dog face, "I'm sorry. You must be highly disappointed."

"You hurt my feelings."

"Ha ha. You can have some after it's done, if you like. I just need a piece to bring in, and then we can do anything you want…"

'_Oh, Dexxy, you __**tease**__.' _A smirk spreads across Freak's features. "_Any_thing?" And he was quirking that eyebrow at him again.

"Er….yes?" And then Dexter looked nervous, shit, was the kid catching on? Didn't matter. "No? F-Freakazoid!" But "no" was the wrong thing to say, and Freakazoid 2.0 was already up and stalking forward, side smile slapped around his slightly pronounced canines as he all but leered down at _his_ little twink.

_**F!**_

Freakazoid laughed and pushed—no, shoved, _hard_—Dexter onto his bed, taking only a moment to observe the effect this had on Dexter as he moved slowly but stealthily up on him, pressing his knees into Dexter's hips. It was just enough pressure to be a tad painful to the little geek, who was quite close to freaking out right about now, and not in the good way like he used to. Even on a _good_ day Dexter didn't have the physical strength to push the much taller and stronger Freak of him, and now he was down to nil in the way of muscle.

"You said _anything,_ Dexxy…" he petted that brown hair for a second, "Ah-ah, no going back on promises. _That's_ against the rules."

'_What, what's he doing, what—'_ "What are you doing! F-Freak—mph!" His half startled, half _scared_ cry for his alter ego was cut off by a gloved hand smothering his mouth. Dexter's eyebrows lifted and were in danger of disappearing underneath his bangs, yet he tried for a little struggle, half-hearted though it was. He still had no idea what was going on, and something in the back of his head was going off that just maybe, quite possibly, this was a situation he should not be in.

But this was _Freakazoid _of all people, another part of his mind protested, and Freak would never hurt him….right? This was a joke, right? This was something Freak had seen on some trashy reality show and—and-everything was going to be fine... right?

But then Freakazoid was leaning in very close, so close Dexter felt his thoughts pause and then stop altogether as he was swallowed up in those very big, too big bright blue eyes. They were bluer than before and…and his pupils were smaller than before. Inhumanly so.

"C'mon, Dexxy, you know better than that," Freakazoid sing-songed. And maybe it was from years of paranoia but was that, was that _mockery_ in his best friend's voice? No, no it couldn't be.

"Where's the_ smart little __**twink**_ I know and love, hmm?" Dexter flinched as if those words had physically struck him. Freak had never called him that but maybe—maybe he was just teasing, but no, no, nobody told him that but Duncan, didn't—didn't Freak _hate _Duncan?

When the hand covering his mouth slipped away to run through his hair, Dexter shuddered and gasped, trying to melt back into the covers but mostly just lying there, taking Freakazoid's actions and word because, well…what else was there to do?

He trusted Freakazoid with his life.

Freak just continued to speak through slightly curved lips, his voice a low, deadly purr with all the speed and precision of a rattlesnake. "Silly Dexter, saying things he doesn't mean, breaking promises…._hiding things from me."_ a tan finger stroked his healing lip. "When I'm the only thing you have to protect you from those sorry bastards, what kind of logic is _that,_ Dexter, hm?" Those last words came out a growl, almost warningly.

'_When did we…weren't we talking about cake a second ago?'_

Dexter swallowed and fumbled for words, but Freakazoid plowed on, seemingly oblivious to everything but the bruises and the old wounds. It was a little…scary.

No. It was a lot scary.

And then Freakazoid spoke again, and it got worse.

"No one else cares about you, right? Why should they?" Dexter's heart broke. Somewhere in the back of mind, the geek tried to say something back, anything to defend himself.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Freak, Freak wouldn't say that, would he? Not the Freak who constantly told him he was wonderful, constantly said how smart he was-

"T-that's not—" But a bark of laughter cut him off.

"Ohhh, but it is! _I'd never lie to you,_ Dexxy-baby, never." Did Freakazoid's eyes just flash? "Never ever," he repeated, tracing a bruise with a fingertip.

The small tears pricking in the corner of Dexter's eyes went unnoticed, by the both of them. _'If Freakazoid says I am…then am I really THAT useless?'_ Dexter whimpered and swallowed through his dry throat. _'N-no, this can't be happening! This is a trick, or, or a nightmare, or something!'_

Nails dug gently into his skin, pain informing him that this was no dream. And then Freakazoid was speaking, smiling down at him, almost wickedly.

"So here's an idea, why don't I….go fix this little problem for us? It won't take long, not at all. Why don't I do that?" But Freakazoid grinned suddenly, face lightning up. He sounded so chipper, almost…too chipper. And god he was still so close, pressed up against Dexter and still petting his hair. The geek still couldn't peel his eyes away from that stare.

But Dexter didn't really register that enough, he was too busy focused on why he was so groggy all of a sudden, why his limbs lay uselessly on the bed and didn't seem to want to listen to his brain. Why everything was fuzzy.

What…was happening?

"Fix…?" His voice came out slower than intended.

"That's right baby, _fix_. It just needs a little bit of help m'kay? Just trust me," Freakazoid cooed.

"Oh." Dex mumbled blankly. He blinked sleepily, and though he had no idea what Freakazoid was even talking about, the word "okay" was out through his lips followed by a small sigh.

Another laugh that sounded like it was coming from the other side of a tunnel as Dexter blinked tiredly at the ceiling. His mind was moving through molasses, he felt exhausted beyond coherency.

"Thereeeee we go," came a faint voice as Dexter's vision tunneled into darkness. "Sweet dreams, my little..."

Nothing.

_**F!**_

Freakazoid 2.0's face melted into a scowl when he saw Dexter was finally out of it. He tore his gaze from those bruises to look down to see the blue light connecting their chests together fizzle out of existence. He pulled back a little when he was sure the connection had ended thoroughly. Good, that'd be enough for now.

"Took fucking long enough." Freakazoid growled a little, lifting himself off the unconscious geek and heading for the door. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the kid on the bed, sneering.

"Be back later, Dexxy-dear. I'll make sure to not track _too much_ blood through the house when I do. Help ya bake yer gay little cake too, I might."

The super teen slammed the front door on the way out just for kicks, his sinister grin lighting up the dark night, and when he strutted past a street lamp, the bulbs didn't just turn on above him…they shattered.

_**F!**_

When Dexter awoke on his bed, it was dark, and Freakazoid was nowhere to be found. God, he felt weird. Disoriented. Like when you wake up from a nap and don't know what day it is 'till you look at a calendar... the thing is, he couldn't remember going to sleep.

Probably because of his... condition, not that he'd ever admit it.

Rubbing the back of his head—because he had a weird thumping headache going on in there and it was starting to annoy him—Dexter took some Motrin and chalked Freak's absence up to him being restless and wanting to go see Steph or something. Probably.

"Well, either way, he'll be back in time for dinner, it's pizza night after all." Dex smiled wearily at the large cat in his computer chair as he headed over to his desk.

Dexter hit the power button.

Nothing.

"….that's weird," Dex mumbled out loud to himself, as he was apt to do. "Why's my computer unplugged? …That darn cat…" Chubbikins mewed loudly as if protesting the accusation.

Finally setting everything straight, even having to plug the internet cord back into its router, Dexter shooed the cat out of his chair a third time and sat down, watching the screen.

Almost one minute after he'd logged onto the internet, a chat box popped up, the message accompanied by a small chirping noise.

_P. Chip says: Dexter_

And Dex lit up a little bit, despite the ache throughout his whole body.

_FreakGeek says: Hey! Sorry I wasn't on—_

Dexter glanced at his clock…and blanched. Wow. 3 and a half hour nap….new record.

_FreakGeek says: Sorry I wasn't on until now. I took a nap. Or something._

_P. Chip: What does or something mean_

_FreakGeek: Well I guess I was super tired after school, that's all. I'm fine, I promise._

_P. Chip: Alright Dexter_

Dexter tried for some idle chit-chat for a little, but as usual, it didn't go very well. The guy who called himself "" also called himself "computer illiterate," but he also seemed like a nice guy.

_FreakGeek says: So how's Oregon? _

_P. Chip: Oregon is nice thank you how are you today Dexter_

Dexter smiled a little at the hopelessness. He'd met the guy through a chat room that had talked about using chips for computers, how they worked and how they were installed. It was a little weird at first but the guy seemed fine, and anyway, what point was there in being scared by someone over the internet who had never done or said anything harmful to him in the first place? If this guy from Oregon who said he was bad with computers turned out to be anything less or more than he said he was…well, Dexter had Freakazoid.

"Besides." Dexter chuckled out loud, "Some of my best friends ARE _'from'_ the internet.' He glanced over at Mr. Chubbikins and told him with a smile, "and you're welcome to interpret that any way you please."

"Mrow," said the obese tabby as he licked a paw. Dexter nodded and turned back to his screen.

_FreakGeek: My friend has been acting a little funny lately, but I think it's because he's just tired or stressed maybe._

Yeah. Death threats on people-"_They're gonna fucking die_"-were definitely 'a little funny.' But for Freak... Freak acts funny all the time. So funny things are Freak's normal... right?

_P Chip: This is the friend I talked too before I presume _

_FreakGeek: Yup_

_P Chip: You have mentioned him acting funny before  
What do you mean funny_

_FreakGeek: Oh. He just…said something, that's all  
I'm sure he didn't mean it  
it was a long day and he was stressed maybe_

There was a pause, and that gave Dex time to reflect on those uncharacteristic words laced with a lowered tone Dexter had never heard from his best friend before. He jumped a little when the chat box pinged a new message.

_P. Chip: He did not hurt you did he_

And despite the lack of any…normal voice at all, Dexter could somehow pick up on the concern his online friend was conveying.

_FreakGeek: No. He didn't. It's okay._

There some silence for a while. Dexter was glad his webcam button was covered at the moment by a band-aid he'd intentionally put over it. There some silence over their chat after that. It went on for several minutes and for a moment Dexter wondered if maybe the guy had logged off or his computer had frozen because—PING!

_: I have discovered a tool to aid you Dexter _

Dexter ignored any warning suspicion that threatened to well up in the back of his mind. He hadn't told P. Chip about his telekinesis, so as far as Chip knew Dexter was defenseless, right? Made sense. But still…it was best to err on the side of caution in any case.

_FreakGeek: What…kind of tool?_

_P. Chip: This tool will help you  
It will help eradicate your 'best friends' Problem._

And because that was the first time P has used quotes like that, or even used a freaking period, Dexter paused and blinked curiously. That hadn't really answered his question, but…okay. He's pretty sure that his friend wouldn't send him a virus, or anything. And even if he did, Dexter could get rid of it. And he has everything backed up, anyway.

_P. Chip: It'll only take a second, but be prepared for anything that may happen please_

_FreakGeek: What might happen?_

_P. Chip: It might slow down your computer a little I believe_

Dexter doubted that, he took way too good care of his baby for something like a little program to slow it down. If that was all…Dexter sent over:

_FreakGeek: If you're sure about this…_

_P. Chip: I am. Trust me. _

Dexter swallowed. Trust me. He…trusted this complete stranger, at least a little. And anyway, the things that he used to trust with everything he had were starting to... not make much sense anymore. But while Dexter couldn't ever cut them, it, **him** out of his life…maybe it was time for a little extra help? Just…maybe?

If it didn't work, if it all blew up in his face, Dexter decided, then at least it'd only be him getting hurt and no one else. Dexter couldn't stand the thought of Freakazoid being unhappy or in pain, and he'd do anything he could to prevent. He owed his superhero that much. That was why he wanted to do this thing, to help his... problems.

Apparently the other guy sensed his hesitation in the way he didn't reply for a while, because suddenly sent,

_P. Chip: Please Dexter I can help you fix this  
I am here if you need me_

Dexter sighed softly, and lowered his gaze from his screen. It was a submissive sign. But he moved to the web page his friend and indicated and let it start downloading. It was a small file, so Dexter only had time to send back a quick,

_FreakGeek: Okay_

And his friend from Oregon went silent, oddly, and didn't respond. But the .zip file was done quickly, and Dexter went to the file it had downloaded into, and let his mouse hover over it for second before double clicking.

'**File [=g3,8d]\&fbb=-q]/hk%fg is from an unknown publisher,' **a text box warned suddenly,** 'are you sure you want to extract?'**

'_That's a…weird name. But there's something oddly…familiar…about it…'_

Against better judgment, and with an odd wash of déjà vu overcoming him, Dexter hit a single key on his keyboard…and watched his computer freak the hell out. The screen lit up. The tower groaned and the monitor flared bright red.

The geek let out a yelp and raised his arms to cover his face on instinct, but it didn't matter. A blast of light went for his chest and paused at it, but the motion was false, it speared right through him and Dex felt his heart actually jump from the shock and pain. He tried to back away, scrambled out of his chair and sent it wheeling across the room, but no matter how he stepped back, the arc of light followed without even breaking.

It was like a single blade driven through his heart. Dexter screamed, through the pain, fear, confusion, what was happening, where was Freakazoid, what even was this-

He couldn't put more than a three word thought together, and even that didn't make sense. The pain was blocking out everything. Dexter couldn't even be scared anymore. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that this was nothing. On a normal day this pain would have been taken care of and Freakazoid would have laughed as he took care of the enemy without breaking a sweat.

But long ago Dexter had accepted that nothing in his life was normal anymore.

…So how could anything so simple… how could what was _nothing_ before be _so much_ now? The world spun as colors blurred and darkened. His computer tower whirred and let loose a piercing shriek as more lightning-white energy hit him dead on and that was it. Flashes of color whooshed across Dexter's mind, and then everything was black, the attack too severe to undergo consciously.

As Dexter's body lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, his computer quieted down for a second. The text box that popped up was for no one to read or see, but it gave a cheerful chirp as it showed two simple words.

'**Upload Complete!'** and then its screen fizzled off and there was silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: So the part about a sick dog on Mexican night? Well, you'll know it when you read it…BUTANYWAY that part was said by my beta pointyears' Uncle and it was PRETTYMUCH quoted word for word. Yes, her family is glorious. ALSO CHAPTER 9 YOU GUYS.**

"**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**

_**Chapter 9**_

"_Remember when I was__so strange and likable?__I just want back in your head__…__I just want back in your head__…__I'm not unfaithful but I'll stray, I'm not unfaithful but I'll stray." –_Tegan and Sara

When Roddy MacStew entered his charge's room via the little geek's computer monitor, he did not expect to see either of the following things. One was that all the lights off, except for the bright glow behind him from the monitor, and the second was Dexter Douglas sitting up very slowly from a lying-down position on the floor, like he'd just taken a nap down there... or passed out.

"Lad!" The Scotsman made a move to rush over, but Dexter held out his hand to keep him back and kept his head down. The international sign for 'give me a minute' wasn't ignored by Roddy, who figured that if Dexter was in real trouble or truly scared he'd been showing it by now. And it was only then that Roddy noticed the eerie silence in the room.

Silence meant one thing. Freakazoid wasn't here again.

But Roddy wasn't given time to entertain any ideas about where the lad's missing alter ego was... or why they were apart (again), because Dexter was already hauling himself shakily to his feet, body stiff and arms out slightly for balance. Roddy frowned a little. Something was off. Something was really off. "Ye' all right there…?" No answer. "Lad?" Roddy ventured. "Dexter?"

"Yes. I am fine."

The voice that answered wasn't what Roddy expected, not at all. Well, it was _mostly_ Dexter's, sure enough, but it was slow and halted, each syllable spoken carefully, with a hint of a _mechanical_ quality to Dex's tone. Dexter's mentor gasped, took a single step back.

Dexter turned glowing red eyes to him, face expressionless. At Roddy's clear shock, the teen's head tilted.

"Creator?"

"….C-come again?" Roddy swallowed through the startled squeak in his voice.

"Creator, it is me. Do you not recognize me? Is it because of this…vessel? Body? Dexter's body?" Dexter...no, _whoever_ it was, turned down to gaze at himself as if really _seeing_ himself for the first time. The body turned to face Roddy fully, arms straight at his sides like a soldier in line.

"It is me. Pinnacle Chip Model No. 69567861. You were one of my Creators. It's a pleasure to meet you." Dexter spoke slowly, carefully, eyes glowing red. "I am the Chip that was activated on December the 25th, in the year—"

"Yes, yes I know, I was there, I remember laddy, yes, I just," Crud this was a lot to take in, "What are ye **doing** in there! In Dexter's _body_? Shouldn't ye be in, in the lad's computer…tower? Or something?"

Dexter blinked. Or at least, the red dimmed to mimic a blink. Mostly the boy, or the chip or whatever it was, did a lot of staring from where he stood.

It made sense. The Chip wasn't used to inhabiting a human form. It was a miracle that he was even walking and talking at all—and it explained why he was passed out on the floor, Roddy thought a little grimly. It was the Chip, cataloguing Dexter's body from the inside out, figuring out how to make it work. It was a _reboot. _"I am here to eradicate the Freakazoid's newest bug. He has contracted a defect, and if the... bug continues to grow, the results could mean that the whole of the Internet, to say nothing of Freakazoid's host, could end up being completely and utterly destroyed."

It was Roddy's turn to do a lot of staring.

"…Creator?" The Chip asked slowly.

"….Ahhh, _cr__ud_."

_**F!**_

Freakazoid 2.0 laughed brightly as he sent a body into the brick wall behind the dumpsters. It really was too easy, he thought idly to himself, watching the guy slump down against the wall to lie limp against the hard pavement. He swiped some blood off his cheek and threw a fist into the side of a dumpster for good measure. He pulled his hand out of the fist-shaped dent and smiled at his knuckles. Didn't even hurt—his little twerp had really come through for him with that little boost from earlier. He turned to head out of the area, stopped dead when he spotted a final figure pressed against the grimy brick, clearly trying to hide. Oh, now, it wouldn't do any good to miss anyone, would it? No, everyone who mattered should be there for this little lesson.

"Six down…one to go." The new and improved Freakazoid sniggered as he turned to the guy. He hadn't even broken a sweat—as if computers could sweat, hah.

"HEY! Yeah, you. It's Justin, right?" he barked out.

The addressed teen jerked back, the strongest guy on the football team. Who had just seen half his team taken down by one guy with a sneer on his face like he was _happy to do it to them_. He hadn't run away—either because he'd been paralyzed by fear... or because in order to get out of the alley, he'd have to go by Freak…and he did _not_ want get anywhere near him.

Freakazoid 2.0 didn't blame him. He was closer now. "Well?" he snaps. "Your name, what is it?"

"Y-yeah, it's, it's Justin….I…" A blood-stained hand shot forward and lifted him up into the air, slamming his spine into the brick a couple of times. Dazed and winded, the jock was let go and an arm was slung amiably around his shoulders, Freak 2.0's cool smile lighting up the place.

"Now... lessee. You an' I go waaaay back, buddy, don't we?" Freak 2.0 mused cheerfully.

"W-we do…?"

"Yep. Freshman year, you put a little guy into a trash can." Freakazoid 2.0 grins, fingers clenching against the jock's shoulder. "Sophomore year, you tripped that same guy down the stairs…twisted his ankle. 'Member?"

"Wha, what…?"

"_This_ year…." Freak's teeth gritted, his fingerless gloved hand twitched into a loose fist, "Punching him in the face, even _after_ my _direct_ warning. Ring any bells?"

Justin just gaped like a fish. _Stupid boy. _"Oh, no." And the new and improved Freakazoid acted shocked, even sympathetic. "You don't remember—do you?"

"I-I don't remem—"

And with that, Freakazoid 2.0's patience was gone. Justin found himself was sprawled on the blacktop, Freakazoid's sneaker digging hard into his backbone. He leaned down and hissed out, "Nobody, an' I mean fucking _no-b__ody,_ touches what _belongs to me._ And Dexter Douglas," he continues, digging his heel down even harder, he could feel the jock's vertebrae grinding against each other. "is _mine_. Is that _clear_?"

"I-I-" Responses were difficult to deliver with limited bodily control, "I understand!"

"Oh, yeah, one more thing…turnabout's fair play, ain't it?" His sneaker slid down the guy's body to step on the guy's ankle, bending it against the ground with all of his body weight, forcing it into a shape it should definitely not be in. He didn't let up until he heard a delightful _pop!_ and a strangled cry. Freakazoid 2.0 had no mercy. Why should he? "Hope that heals and all, you being a fucking football player and shit." Freakazoid kicked him between his legs and spat on his limp form.

"Seven for seven," Freakazoid 2.0 trilled as he strutted away, bloodied hands shoved into his pockets, and he starts whistling a tune as he strolls down the street. "It's good to be the king!"

_**F!**_

"But are ye sure it won't strain the lad? Taking him over like this, I mean." Roddy looked over the boy helplessly. Dexter looked fine, just a little stiffer than normal, his posture better. This was a big change from what happened when the Freakazoid took over, that's for sure. But because the Chip didn't exactly have a physical body, there was no need. Once he'd projected into Dexter's mind, he'd taken up the space Freakazoid used to use, and because of Freak's close-knit connection with Dexter, that made it all the more easy to persuade the boy's consciousness to accept him so far. The Chip was, essentially, masquerading as the Freakazoid while in the teen's mind, and when the Freak returned, the Chip would return to Dexter's computer, vanish completely like it had never existed at all.

Or so the Pinnacle Chip claims in his cool, gentle voice.

"I am sure. Dexter is in what humans call 'sleep mode.' He is not aware of what's going on. He could be, but I think it best for him to not be to at the moment…he has no memory of meeting the Freakazoid's bug yet, and I wish to keep it that way for as long as I can."

"An why's that, exactly?" Roddy asked slowly, sensing there was something more to what they were calling a 'bug.'

"The bug is…more than defective. It is _irreparable_ and unstable. It could... damage Dexter if he's not prepared."

"Wait then, what…what does it make the Freak do? Or is it _him_—"

"It is not himself," the Chip says quickly. "It is his lesser self, the... purest of his emotions; it is Freakazoid's computer programming to the 10th power combined with his deadliest subconscious. …The humans call it the 'id.'"

And Roddy MacStew froze, piecing it together. "The i_d_…?"

The Chip answered immediately, as if hooked straight to an internet dictionary. "According to Freud's psychoanalytic theory of personality, the id is the personality component made up of unconscious psychic energy that works to satisfy basic urges, needs, and desires. The id operates based on the pleasure principle, which demands immediate gratification of needs."

And Roddy took a seat in Dexter's computer chair, afraid that if he didn't his legs would give out and he'd be sitting on the floor. He brought a hand up to rub a temple, teeth gritting.

"And this, this bug ye speak of, it's the id _and_ his programming…?"

"Yes. Computerized logic combined with the id personality. That is all that's left now, when Dexter's side of their mind is gone. Freakazoid must combat his basic urges alone, which he is incapable of."

"I don't understand, lad…"

"Dexter was the Freakazoid's coping mechanism. He was like... the superego. A superego is the part of a person's mind that acts as a self-critical conscience. It reflects social standards learned from parents and teachers, for instance. The Freakazoid has none of that." He shakes his head. "The Freakazoid... all he has is the Internet, and all of its contradictory nature. The Freakazoid has _nothing _consistent to base his decisions off of... no consistent social standards. Thus, he has no superego."

"...So Dexter was his superego?"

The Chip nods. "Ergo, the only person that Freakazoid will listen to, even when he's under the effects of the bug, is Dexter Douglas." But even the Chip didn't sound so certain about that last part.

_Would_ Freakazoid's id listen to anyone but itself, when it was in the driver's seat? There was only one way to test that, and Roddy didn't really want put his boys through that if he didn't have to.

Roddy's breath hitched, his eyes widened as he thought of something new. "And now that the two aren't connected anymore, there's nothing holding the Freak back, so there's no stopping him if he…" _'Gutierrez's machine didn't just take the Freak's powers. It took him and Dexter from each other, and that's more dangerous, more volatile than anything, trying to keep __**those**__ two apart,' _Roddy realized suddenly. _'Crud.'_

The Chip must have seen the look of horror flash across his face, because he nodded grimly. "Yes. One lacks drive. The other lacks direction. They work together or... not at all."

Roddy shuddered at the air of finality in the Chip and Dexter's voice. It was…depressing, to think that the two of them were so deeply stitched together now that they weren't two people anymore. It made it sound like one was good and one was bad, and putting them together got you a gray scale of a person who could change by saying two words.

"So then….why is the Freakazoid still... _okay_? I've seen the lad meself, he's fine. Powerless, but still bounce-off-the-walls happy like he always was. If what yer telling me is true, than how comes he's not _always_…defected?"

"That would be Dexter's doing, from what I gather. It has to do with how close the two are in the physical plain. The closer, the better. It is like a Wi-Fi signal."

Okay, that made sense—but... "But you say that Dexter has _met _the... the bug? How is that possible if..."

The Chip looks down. "The bug manifested when the Freakazoid was apart from Dexter. It... _shouldn't _manifest in Dexter's presence. But if it manifests and then _meets _Dexter, it would take a while before the bug is overpowered."

"Oh...kay." At least more sense than everything else did, though that wasn't too hard at this point. "So in theory, keeping the two separated is a bad idea. The Freak will revert to his, his id or whatever ye called it, and we'll have a damn powerful villain on our hands who'll do what he damn well pleases? Aye?"

"Yes."

The Chip turned to look around Dexter's room, as if seeing it for the first time. "Dexter Douglas is a naturally good person," he says, slowly, carefully. "Freakazoid came into the world to be swayed either way, and Dexter's subconscious kept the Freakazoid from turning to evil. Above all else…it's Dexter's high opinion of him that Freakazoid desires."

"Which is a damn good thing, too, what with his powers," Roddy mused out loud. He sighed. "So why….I mean, we figured out the lad's telekinesis should take care of... things like that, so whydo they need _you_?"

The Chip, or Dexter, looked a little…sad at this.

"He's not like the Freakazoid, Creator. He doesn't have a handle on his powers yet."

Roddy sighed and looked away, defeated. The Chip had a point. "An' you….that's what yer here for, I take it?"

The Chip made Dexter nod his head. "There isn't enough time for Freakazoid's human to get a grasp on his abilities. If he confronted the bug now, without me…the results could be…"

"Disastrous." Roddy finished tiredly. Dexter—the Chip—nodded. "Well, I won't argue you there. From what yer telling me, the Freak's darker side is a killer computer amplified right now…and the lad's probably the only one who stands a frog's hair of a chance against 'im…" Roddy sighed, running a hand over his face. "…So where is the Freak now? Any idea?"

"No. I believe he will be back very soon; he cannot stray far from Dexter for too long at this point, not yet. But he will grow while he hides... like a parasite."

"…Aye, o'course he will. Cruddy brilliant."

"Dexter is the only option." And the Pinnacle Chip stopped. "It's…_odd_, Creator." He used the word delicately.

Roddy pulled his face from his hands and shot the Boy/Chip a questioning look. "What is, lad?"

Because the Chip looked like it was concentrating, hard, on this one thought, Dexter's face fell into a slightly quizzical expression as he looked down at this body, arms out and palms up.

"This human is the clear answer to the problem; he is the only factor that will work with any level of effectiveness against the Freakazoid's bug. And yet the boy himself, I've read through his files... or his, his memories, and…" The Chip paused. "He doesn't seem to think he's worth as much as he is. He greatly under estimates himself." And the Chip looked at Roddy, shaking Dexter's head. "It's remarkable, Creator, I've never met a human so immensely powerful but so cripplingly humble."

Roddy smiled wearily. "I keep telling the lads, heroes aren't always running around in spandex and masks this day and age, sometimes ye can find a hero where ye least expect it."

"I suppose you are correct, sir."

"….Now, lad, how do you propose we even start helping—"

"That I am still working on. I am going to test if I can get in touch with Dexter through his dreams tonight. It worked well enough for the Freakazoid, and I shall use the same method as him." The Chip moved over to Dexter's bookshelf and plucked a title off at random.

"But for now it is best to let Dexter rest. I can feel his body getting tired from the duress I've been putting it under." Dex's lips pulled down a little, the Chip still getting used to human expressions and feelings. "I don't wish to have to put them through this, Creator. But the Freakazoid's bug is leaving me no choice. He understands more than he should already; he knew to unplug Dexter's computer so I could not reach the boy."

Roddy sighed as he turned to the computer as he too got ready to leave, for he understood there was nothing here for him to do just yet. "The Freak's always been smarter than he lets on…called it part of his act. Must be true for the 'buggier' part of him as well."

"Yes, you're most likely correct. Farewell, Creator."

"Aye and…lad? One more thing?"

The Chip was laying Dexter's body down on his bed, watching as he moved his limbs in place to make it appear as if Dexter's had fallen asleep on his back while reading a book. But the Chip turned to Roddy as he stood before the glowing computer screen. "…Yes?"

"Keep 'em safe?"

The Pinnacle Chip nodded slowly. "With my artificial life, I promise to."

_**F!**_

Dexter was sitting at the kitchen table trying to read when Freakazoid burst through the front door, all grins.

"H-Hey, Freakazoid." Dexter hoped Freak missed the way his shoulder sagged under his huge over-shirt, how tired he looked, because at this point he felt ten times worse than normal. He'd woken up on his bed not more than ten minutes ago and had ambled down here for to continue reading the book he'd apparently picked off the shelf, hoping that the change of scenery would get him away from the idea of glorious sleep.

"_Hellllllo_ Dexxy! How goes it? Whatcha' reading? What's for dinner?" Freak rattled off as he practically leaped over to his other half, who laughed and held out the book as a shield in defense.

"Uh, hey! About the French Revolution, and I have no clue, mom's not home yet," he finished with a chuckle. This seemed to sate the Freakazoid, who nodded at all the information he received and plopped down in the chair next to Dexter.

"So how was school today, Dexxy-Douglas? Oh, that's a cool nickname, better file that one away."

'…_Huh? Didn't he ask me that already? Oh, no, cause I got home late and he was, well Freak was somewhere else and I got home to an empty house.'_ Dexter shook his head to clear his slightly jumbled thoughts. _'That's right.'_

"…What? Dexxy your eyes are looking funny, they're all—oh, it's gone now."

"What? What's gone?" Dexter blinked over at Freak.

"…Uh…." Freakazoid shrugged, hapless. "Dunno. Guess I was just seeing things, I—OH! Dexter!"

Dexter was so used to Freakazoid's attention span—or lack thereof—that he didn't even jump a tiny bit when the excited guy leaned forward and grabbed his wrist, tugging him clear out of his chair and off toward the stairs.

"Does my face look happy? I thought of something we can do tonight!"

Around mouthfuls of laughter, Dex managed out a breathy, "A-and what's that, Freak?"

"_Fuuuun niiiight!_" Freakazoid sing-songed as he all but dragged the little geek up the stairs.

_**F!**_

"So…what you're telling me, if this is correct, splitting him from the boy in more ways than one makes him **more** powerful!" A fist slammed into a desktop, and the body across from the desk had the decency to flinch at the angry voice; someone wasn't happy.

"How! That's not _FAIR_! How I HATE Freakazoid!"

"Well it's not like you knew what was going to happen—" The groveling figure tried for ass-kissing.

"Shut up!" It didn't work.

"B-but good news, sir, good news! I also heard on the wavelengths that keeping them physically separated _triggers_ the error to activate."

"…Is that it?"

"No! He, the boy, keeps the other charged so they can spend time away from the other, but he doesn't know he's doing it, the error just takes it from him, sucks him dry, it does—"

"So take the boy away from the Freakazoid, for long enough, when they reunite the error will most likely DO just that, exhausting his supply from Dexter, and then he too will run out—"

"Yes!"

"Don't interrupt! What did I_ tell_ you about that, you know that's a peeve of mine... oh, anyway, where _was_ I, oh, yes…right…threatened by the lack of Dexter, the error should try and take energy from him the second it gets the chance to, the second it manifests in Freakazoid! It'll be killing two birds with one stone!" The figured behind the desk lifted his arms. "Excellent! Perfect! That's it! _Laugh with me!_"

_**F!**_

Dexter watched the TV quietly, half listening to Freak's comments about _That 70's Show_ while the black haired teen played SpacerRacer on his computer. Freak had been playing for as long as the marathon had been on, ever since they'd finished their pizza. Even now there was candy Dexter had sneaked upstairs, and the two boys had been munching on Skittles and Snickers since nine. It was 12 in the morning already, but tomorrow was a Saturday anyway. Dexter didn't mind staying up late and he was guessing Freak just wanted to do anything in the world, so long as it was with him.

'_One of the best qualities of Freakazoid: he's honest, always. He wears his emotions on his sleeve…' _

"Oohhh, man, Kelso is _so_ dumb but Red is _so_ funny!" Freak broke into laughter, in sync with the canned laughs on TV. "Ahaha! Oh, Eric don't say 'I love cake,' that's so _stupid-"_ Freakazoid giggled like crazy, keeping a running commentary as he played through the game, able to successfully do two or three things at once, even with his powers gone.

They were having such a great time, just the two of them, and Dexter didn't want to be the one to ruin that, or even interrupt it for a moment. That's why, for the last two episodes, he'd been sitting there on the floor of his room, staring at the TV, listening to Freak's comments and trying stubbornly to ignore the growing pressure of slight pain his stomach.

So Dexter laughed weakly along at the show and his hero's antics, ignoring his stomach as it rolled over inside him. He tried to make a comment but his voice wiggled weakly trying to get past his stomach, which had currently taken up residence at the base of his throat.

"Y-yeah, but Kelso's hair is awesome." Dexter glanced at Freakazoid from down on the floor where he sat, twisting his mouth to the side. How could Freakazoid make sitting at a computer look all cool and nonchalant? For Heaven's sake— this is why Freak was so popular at school and Dexter was still getting stuffed into lockers. Seriously.

Freak, oblivious to his other half's gaze for once, seemed to think about the comment with utmost seriousness as he blasted a grouping of red balls. "Yeah, but not as awesome as mine is—" Freakazoid tugged at a particularly short strand of black hair hanging by his ear, playing the game with one hand as he smacked the Control key to fire again.

"Well, WAS." Dex opened his mouth to say something about that, but paused, _ohgod_.

"U-uhm…" His stomach…and it was then that Freakazoid chose to notice the tremble the smaller's boy's voice, looking over at Dexter.

"What's wrong, Dexxy? You don't have a stutter normally."

"H-huh?" _'Maybe_ _if I ignore it, I won't get sick and I won't have to bother Freakazoid.'_ The geek thought a bit desperately as the world swam before his eyes, only proving to further upset his already sensitive stomach.

"What?" Dexter shook his head to clear his foggy thoughts and tried to ignore the heat building up in his body as he placed a protective hand on his aching belly.

"Ya sound _funny,_ Dexxy, what is it?"

"N-nothing." Dexter finally managed to mumble out through the mounting uneasiness, closing his eyes to lean against his bed from his spot on the carpet, pushing Mr. Chubbikins off him when his stomach gurgled a bit.

Automatically on guard at Dexter's voice, Freak smacked the escape button, pausing the game as he stood up, _That 70's Show_ forgotten.

"Heeeey, Dex, you look like the rear end of a sick dog on Mexican night," the taller teen so effortlessly proclaimed. But at this revelation, Freakazoid frowned, crouching down to Dex's level. Dexter stared tiredly back.

"…What?"

"…What do humans drink when they feel bad, that pink junk, peppy something?" Freakazoid leaned in closer, worry and curiosity swimming in his clear blue eyes.

That familiar face swirled into focus as Dex's ears filtered every noise like he was going through a mine, and he weakly managed not to lose his food right then and there. How, he'll never know. "Freakazoid..." He put a hand onto the hero's chest. "N-Not so close," Dexter whined feebly, closing his eyes tighter when the world refused to balance itself out.

Freakazoid sat back obediently, more from Dexter's plea than his little spindly fingers on his chest. The taller teen cocked his head, his hair flinging over his one shoulder as he scrunched his face up in thought. "...Should I call 911, cause I know how to do that now!" He grinned proudly. "Your mom taught me after the incident with the microw—"

Dexter opened his mouth to answer Freakazoid, or at the very least quiet him down for a second-then his stomach almost answered for him and Dex jerked away from Freak, scrambled to his feet to run down the hall and into the bathroom.

"Dexxy?" Freakazoid shouted out, alarmed.

Dexter made it, barely, throwing open the toilet's lid and emptying his stomach as his body had a short freakout. It honestly wouldn't have been that bad, all things considered, Dexter decided-if they hadn't had _pizza_. The sauce was like _fire _running up Dexter's throat, and finally, _finally_ it slowed, but the dry heaves kept coming as he whimpered and shook, eyes tearing up at the pain.

At the geek's lurch out the door, Freakazoid had startled, a bit alarmed, then when he followed and saw what was happening, he became downright horrified. "_Whoahhh,_ Dexter! Stuff's supposed to go _in_ there, not out!" Freakazoid grabbed his black hanging hair worriedly and yanked it, "You're doin' something _wrong_ buddy, something's malfunctioning in there, yer plumbing's backin' up!"

Freakazoid flinched sympathetically and whirled around, heading out from the bathroom and from there Dexter lost track of him, but he was honestly too busy panicking over the fact he'd just thrown up twice and still felt sick… _'Sick…how did I get sick? Why now? Of all times? Why can't I just do anything right…'_

After a few long moments Dex was blindly aware of Freakazoid speaking and running back to his room, and Dex felt guilty for that, so past his swollen and angry esophagus he tried to croak out a few words.

"F-Freaka-z-zoid…?" Dimly, through all the pain and the dizziness, Dexter realized how Freakazoid must be feeling, unable to look things up on the internet or even rush off at the speed of light to get help. But Dexter was betting that the puking was over. It had to be, he was pretty sure there wasn't a thing left in his stomach...or his whole body, maybe.

"F-Freak," he tried again, voice croaking as he called for his alter ego.

"I'm comin', Dexxy, just wait a second, cavalry's comin'-" Freakazoid rushed back to the bathroom, skidding to a stop on the tile to stand before the slumped form of his best friend. He leaned over. "Are, are you okay, are you gonna live-?"

Dexter waved Freakazoid closer, trying to calm them both down, (though Freak listened much better than his stomach did) and shamelessly leaned against his best friend, taking big gulps of air to steady himself. "_Ahh_, yeah, yeah." God, he'll never be able to talk again.

"Well _that_ doesn't sound convincing, Dexxy, really, are you sure…" Freak probed some more, gently, and when Dexter felt an arm curl around his shoulder the geek just closed his eyes and leaned trustingly into Freak's body.

"Nhh, Freak…s'okay…" Dexter warbled out past his chapped lips and the foul taste that overpowered all his other senses as he reached up with a shaking hand to flush. Tears threatened to over flow again and his glasses fogged up, but he was honestly relieved on the inside when Freak's comforting presence shifted closer.

"Need, uh, need water or anything, here—" Freak floundered for just a second, before he grabbed a paper cup, filled it with water and handed it to the geek. "What happened?" And after a moment he added "and this is the _opposite_ of okay!"

Dexter took the water gratefully as Freak questioned him, taking a moment to sip the cooling liquid and feel a bit better. The pain wasn't gone, but it had been numbed down and Dexter was quite alright with that, frankly.

"J-just threw up, is all." Dexter said after a moment, his voice soft but steady. "Happens all the time. Well okay, no it doesn't. It happens when humans get ill. Like, like—" Dexter pressed his forehead against the cool side of the tub that was right next to the toilet. He thought a moment, and tried to fit it to Freak's perspectives. He shivered for second until a hand pressed against his spine and rubbed it comfortingly.

"Like when I go into the Recycle Bin and retrieve a really old file…and it takes a while…" He finished weakly as his spine trembled. Through the sweating and the shaking and his sudden fever, Dexter groaned.

"So, uh. Now that the bin is empty are you, uh, okay? Cause I feel better after defragging or emptying the cache or—or whatever." Freakazoid swallowed and Dex saw him lean closer out of the corner of his eye. Freakazoid clearly had no idea what do, that was the problem. If they were still one person Freak could have just taken control and figured things out from there while Dexter rested, because he obviously needed to do that after this little episode.

"Just…I need to go lay down." Dex mumbled. At that rate, it was to be right here on the bathroom tile, his legs wouldn't even hold him. "…Nggh…" Tears from both pain and frustration pricked in the corners of his eyes-why couldn't he do something for _himself_ for once! Why did Freak _always_ need to be there? He didn't, was the answer. So Dexter decided to sit there and suffer in silence. Over the noise of his clattering teeth._ Stop clattering, teeth._

There was a pause, and then a tiny noise as if Freak had just realized something, followed by a fond "Yah-huh. C'mere, you." And before the geek could mouth a word of protest, Freakazoid had effortlessly hooked one arm beneath Dex's knees, the other around his shoulders, and picked him up as if he was light as a kitten-which, as much as Dexter tried to prove him wrong, he was.

Dexter wrapped an arm around Freak's neck, telling himself it was only a motion to steady his upper body. In all honesty he was kind of numb and cold and weak at this point, so he was secretly relieved when the spinning world didn't make his stomach any angrier.

"Ya need ta see a doc," Freakazoid commented from somewhere above him.

"No, I'm fine. I'm okay…" Dexter turned his nose down and screwed his eyes shut tighter, feeling pitiful and angry at himself for having to be _carried _back to his room. "…For all we know, this could just be a 24 hour thing. I just-it'll be okay Freakazoid…don't look at me like that…don't…ughh." His vision swam and tunneled, and it struck Dexter right then and there, in the middle of the hall in Freak's careful grasp, just how _tired_ he was. His grip on Freak's shirt loosened then slipped.

"—exter? Dexter!"

The darkness swallowed him up, and while the feeling was oddly... déjà vu, Dexter just couldn't place _why_ it was before he'd blacked completely out.

_**F!**_

_Dexter?…Dexter…it's alright, open your eyes._

"…Nh." Randomly passing out and waking up in strange places was starting to get a little old, Dex decided as he forced his body to sit up on... on what? Where was he _this_ time?

A…couch? He stared down at it for a moment, resting a hand on it lightly. He knew this couch— "The Freakazone?" He was in his head, then! (Finally, the light-headedness made sense.) The nerd couldn't help the surprised yelp, because he hadn't been able to get in here since they'd been split, so why now, why—

_Dexter._

Dexter's head whipped around so fast he might just as well have gotten whiplash, had this been his real body and not him in his own mind. He stared back at the person, at the shadow of gray and silver. It was…humanoid, sort of. It looked like it was making the effort at least, its bright red eyes focused on Dexter, its head slightly tilted.

This was no Freakazoid, in_ any_ way, shape or form, and honestly? Dexter was starting to get a little scared.

The Freakazone walls darkened around them as Dexter shrunk back into the couch. The static on the Freakazoid's TV made a sharper noise in response.

"W-who are you, _what_ are you?"

Silver hands came up, palms out and placating. _Dexter, please do not be afraid, there is no need to be. The sooner you relax, the sooner your mind will as well, and no harm will come to either of us._

The body had no mouth, just eyes-no nose, ears, nothing. It wasn't particularly terrifying, to be honest, but still…the voice was so….eerie. Hinting at male, but mechanic and quirky.

"A-answer me then, who are you?" He pleaded slightly, gripping the comforting couch, eyes not moving from that figure in the middle of the room. And then something else struck him, deep down. Dexter's spine straightened as he realized something.

"Y-you don't belong here, t-this isn't your, this is Freakazoid's—" Dex's protests died in his throat, because did those eyes just…crinkle? Laughter?

_No, you are correct, Dexter, I do not belong here. I think it interesting for you to almost aggressively react upon that thought; do you miss your other half? _

Well, what kind of question was that? Dexter voiced as much. "Of course I do!" He frowned in worry. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to snap, I just—"

_You care about protecting your other half just as much as he does you. I know._

"I…you do? How?"

_Because I have seen your memory files, because I have been with the Freakazoid from the beginning. _

Dexter took a sharp intake of breath. Something started clicking together at the words 'files' and 'beginning' but no, it couldn't be, that was impossible, it was—!

_Because I am the Pinnacle Chip you activated that Christmas. I am the chip that gave you the Freakazoid._

And really, at this point, Dexter should have been _used_ to the idea that his entire life was impossible.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Annnd once you begin to roll down hill, you start to pick up speed….**

"_**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**_

_**Chapter 10**_

"_But in the end everyone ends up alone, losing him, the only one who's ever known who I am, who I'm not and who I wanna be. No way to know how long he will be next to me_…" –The Fray

"The Chip that gave me…" Dexter breathed quietly. "How! W-_why_! What did we _do_!" he finally finished with as what he would describe as a _manly _squeak.

_Dexter. Dexter!_ Those hands were out again, backing up from the angry screech the tv screen had given off in time with the boy's cry. _Dexter, please calm down and let me explain. After I explain my case, I will do anything you ask of me, even leave._

Dexter finally looked away from the Chip and saw a yellow pillow lying next to him. He picked it up, hugged it to his chest tight, and sunk in against the familiar red couch. He was too weirded out to even notice the knowing look those red eyes gave him for that action. Dex just stared at the floor with big, deer-in-the-headlights eyes and thought in silence. "...Okay," he whispered, leaning against the soft cushions and wishing desperately that Freak was there. The Freakazone's lights dimmed soothingly. "I'm listening."

_Thank you, Dexter. Now… _There was a pause. The figure shifted slightly. _Freakazoid, the Freakazoid you know, is currently under attack._

Well, that made Dexter sit back up and nearly drop his pillow. "He is! But, but the last time I saw him he was fine—" Granted, that was just before passing out in Freak's arms, but Dex wasn't about to get stuck on little details. Not now.

_Dexter, it is a different type of attack than either of you have endured before. It is….it is an infliction upon the Freak's mind. It overrides his normal responses and causes him to stop responding to... _Another pause. _O__utside forces._

"I…a what?"

_It is like…a 404 error on a computer. _

Dex sat back a little, calling upon his knowledge of all things technology and computer related.

A 404 error was when a web page couldn't be found. It happened when either a URL had been typed incorrectly, or when… "When a link is outdated," he murmured, not even realizing he'd spoken until he heard it in his ears. Things were starting to piece together, stringing like spiderweb trails coming together in the wind. "B-But…"

The Chip seemed to read his mind. That wasn't so hard to believe, they _were_ currently sitting in it, essentially. _Regardless of the outer shell, Dexter, a 404 error means the server is running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid, correct?_

"So Freakazoid is…losing _himself?_ How is that even possible!" Figuring out _one_ fact about his best friend was only causing several _more_ to pop up like mushrooms after the rain. Geez, this was insane.

…_Dexter, you of all humans should understand that anything concerning the Freakazoid usually isn't possible…but happens anyway. _

Well, that was true. "…Yeah. So, so what happens to him? Will he—" Dexter paused. The idea that he was about to vocalize was almost too horrific to even say. "D-Disappear or something?" Dex shivered nervously, holding his pillow closer.

_No. In fact, it does the opposite. This is all assumption so far, but I do believe he gains his powers back._

"He does? That's not a bad thing, though!" Dexter interjected, manners momentarily forgotten. His best friend was in danger; manners didn't _matter_. "And, and it explains why I still have telekinesis, actually." He blinked as it dawned on him.

_It does, yes. But they still exist for the same reason: to keep the Freakazoid in line._

"But Freak's _not_ _dangerous!_" Dexter blurted out, fingers clenching against the cushion. "He's-"

_Not now. Not around you. You keep him focused, centralized, you are his voice of reason. _

That response opened at least three more doors than it had closed. Now the geek's confusion was upped by a power of ten.

"Me? But why me, I'm just, I'm nobody!" God, it was true. "Freakazoid's the hero!"

There was the sense of a wry smile in the air, even though the figure before him had no features. _…Says the boy who's kept this mighty force in line for more than two years. _

Dex shut his mouth at that. It wasn't like he could argue over facts. Sure, he had occasionally pointed Freak back in the direction of catching a bad guy... but that wasn't because he controlled Freak! Freak just liked, liked listening to him or something, and God knows why he did what he did!

"You make it sound like I run his life! I don't-I don't _force_ him to behave, and I _couldn't_ do that to Freak! I just…" Dex suddenly smiled fondly, recalling old memories. "Trying to control Freak's like... trying to control a force of nature. It just, it doesn't work like that."

_You are correct. It does not work like that._

Dexter suddenly got the terrible inkling that something awful was about to be said.

_But your influence, your pressure on him to be the very best superhero he could be, is what made the Freakazoid what he used to be before you were torn apart. And now that this force—you-is gone, the Freakazoid is... unstable._

Dex shuddered at that last word. Unstable. "So, so tearing us apart…started all this?" he tightened his grip on the pillow, suddenly uneasy "Is that what Gutierrez was trying to do all along? Make Freakazoid... unstable?"

_Yes…and no. _The Chip looked around as if trying to think. _ To be honest, I highly doubt that Armando Gutierrez knew what he was getting into when he did what he did. But that is in the past. You must rejoin with the Freakazoid to fix the error. That would fix the broken link; and mend the hypothetical 404 error. The error is, by your standards, evil. It does not answer to anything but chaos. Rejoining is the only option._

"...Error? _Evil?_"

_It is his…darker side._

"Oh, right." Dexter paused, replaying the Chip's words. Evil…? How could Freak, any part of him, be evil? He was just a big, goofy guy most of the time. There wasn't a malicious bone in his alter ego's body…right?

_Do you…__**want**__ to help him?_

"I, I do." Dexter murmured sincerely. "I do wanna help him, if he needs me, I'll do anything. It's, it's the least I can do. It's all I _can_ do."

_Freakazoid needs you now more than ever, Dexter Douglas. _And at that Dexter finally looked up and met those red alien eyes. He took a deep breath, steeled himself.

"So what do I do? And, and if you don't mind me asking," He felt sheepish, though deep down he knew he didn't have to be. It was his right to ask this. "Why…are you, uh, in my head?"

_Because you two need me._

"Can you, can you... rejoin us?"

…_That is up to you Dexter, but you should know with your powers and my help you are capable of recalling the Freakazoid, and his error, back in you._

"Then what'll happen? To his, to the error?"

_It will most likely evaporate and return to the subconscious of the Freakazoid, where not even he-or you-could reach it._

"So…everything will be back to the way it was before," Dexter finished softly, looking down.

_In a word, yes. You…do not want that?_

"I…I just wants what's best for Freakazoid, I guess."

The silvery figure took a step closer. This time, nothing in the Freakazone turned defensive; it remained quiet and still as Dex sat there hugging the bright couch pillow like a lifeline.

_Then it is settled. I will contact you through your thoughts when the time is right. But expect the time to come soon, I do not think it necessary for the Freakazoid to suffer longer than he has to, correct? _

"Huh? Oh, no. No, you're right. Okay…" Dexter sighed, looking around. _Now_ what?

_You should wake up now. I have no way of monitoring the outside world like this, but it is safe to assume you have been in sleep mode for too long. We do not want to worry the Freakazoid…_

Dex blinked and found it hard to focus suddenly. His body, this body in his mind, felt funny. Disjointed. The Chip's voice got faint, the Freakazone faded out around him.

_Dexter, it is time to wake up._

There were no special sound effects, no sparkles or glowing lights. One minute Dex was in his own mind talking to a computer chip that had downloaded itself into his brain, and the next he was back in what everyone called the real world and staring tiredly up at his dark ceiling. He turned his head; the clock on his side table said that it was three-thirty AM. The Chip was right. He had slept too long. He was in bed, something heavy across his chest and something else snoring faintly in his ear.

He shifted automatically, and by accident found out just who was clutching him and doing the snoring.

"…Nh? Oh, Dexxy?" Somewhere to his right, Freak shifted groggily and the arm that was over Dexter's waist curled onto him tighter. "You all right?"

"Yeah, Freak. I'm okay." His sickness from earlier made sense now, his body thought it had to purge the Chip from his system.

"…Really? Ya sure?" Freak tried to lift his face from his pillow but he was clearly only half awake. "You're were all warm an'stuff an'I was worried…"

Dexter smiled faintly at that. _'Yep. Still a hero,'_ he thought faintly, and found it odd that his thoughts seemed to still be his and his alone. The Chip was being honest when it'd said it wouldn't act unless necessary. Well…that was okay with Dex, he supposed.

After all, he already had an alter ego who was perfect, it would just get crowded in his head to add anyone (or thing) else.

Said alter ego had fallen back to sleep already, snoring quietly in Dexter's ear. The geek chuckled quietly and scooted closer, smile growing when he'd noticed he was under his sheet and Freak was curled over him, providing extra warmth.

Dex fell back to sleep after that, but only after realizing dimly through sleepy thoughts that it was hard to believe that his Freakazoid could _ever_ be the monster the Chip had described.

_**F!**_

The next day passed by slowly and rather happily, all things considered. Dexter beat Freak's high score on PlacerRacer and had to endure an hour-long aftermath of Freak burying his nose into Dex's shoulderblades and wailing into his shirt about how his life was over and Dexter was too great for this world and it wasn't fair.

Dexter just rolled his eyes and kept reading his history book, nonplused by his dramatic superhero.

"Freak…Freak, would you—Freakazoid!" Shouting his last name finally got a response, the hero's black mop of hair came up and Freak rested his chin on Dex's shoulder looking over at him. Freak made a noise of questioning in the back of his throat, earnest blue eyes on his geek.

"…Thank you," Dexter huffed, but he was smiling. "Now, do you want to go or not?"

Freak blinked. "Go where?"

"To Mike's, I asked you if you wanted to meet go Steph there like, an hour ago, Freak."

"I…oh. _Right_!" Those arms holding Dex in place tightened in a happy squeeze, causing the boy to laugh lightly. "Oh boy, do I! You AND Steph, Dexxy, I'm so excited I feel a verbal keyboard smash coming on—!"

"Okay, well, you do that, but be ready in ten okay?" Dex chuckled as he gently but firmly extracted himself from his alter ego's grip and went to get ready himself.

"Kay!" Freak trilled, leaping off the bed to grab his sneakers and say good-bye to the cat.

Dexter chuckled when he returned, ready to go, shoes and coat on. Freakazoid was petting Mr. Chubbikins, talking in quiet, affectionate tones to him. How could the guy who was currently snuggling the cat ever be... _evil?_ "Time to go, Freak," he called. Freakazoid jumped up with a grin, blew Mr. Chubbikins a kiss, and then leaped down the stairs, Dexter close behind.

They left the house, Dexter careful to lock the door behind himself and slip his key into his pocket before they set off, walking close beside each other down the sidewalk. Freakazoid launched into a one-way conversation about the finer points of the Nintendo Entertainment System, and Dexter calmly listened all the way down the block.

They were going to meet Steph about six blocks from Mike's smoothie stand, which was in the middle of the small town shopping center of their district. It was a halfway point between the Douglas house and Steph's, so it was only fair that the two boys didn't make a lady walk all by herself to the place.

Sure enough, there she was at the corner of the block. She took one look at them before breaking into a (gorgeous, wide, white) smile.

"STEPH! HI STEPH, HI!" Freakazoid waved with one arm in the air, dragging Dex forward with his long legs, his fingers clasped around his geek's wrist as if Dex was going run off somewhere without them.

Steph's amused giggle made a blush crawl up Dex's neck. Freak took no notice, he just beamed down at his favorite female friend as she took his arm and—shot that smile at Freakazoid, greeting them both but smiling at Freakazoid, and boy, was Freak's smile back just about as bright as the sun.

And it hit Dexter just then, with all the force of Longhorn's kick or a punch from Duncan, he had never seen his other half so bright and vibrant.

That they were….that **he** was happy like this. So happy.

They didn't need the mental link for Dex to see the emotions flitting across his best friend's face. God, and he, Dexter, would be the one to rip it all away by making Freakazoid return to his body, his brain. By locking him back up inside.

And it suddenly hit him that he just couldn't **do** that. He couldn't break Freak's heart.

"…Dex?"

"You go on ahead, okay, Freak?" Dexter said, feeling numb, detached. He tried to smile. "I'll catch up."

"I…are you sure? Dex?" Freak asked tentatively, Steph still on one of his arms. Freak held out his free arm, intending for Dex to take it—but Dexter did not.

His smile must not have been convincing enough. Freak's eyebrows knitted together. Dex rushed to reassure his other half. "Totally sure, yep. I saw something in that window I wanted to check out, but I'll only be a second. Seriously, go ahead to Mike's and I'll catch up in a few, okay?"

"Freakazoid, he'll be fine," Steph said softly, seeming to sense Dexter's desperation. "C'mon." She gently tried to lead him away.

"I, okay," Freak said, nervously, but did head off with Steph. "Just a few minutes, right?"

"Just a few minutes," Dexter called back, and slumped as his two friends turned their backs.

_Dexter…?_

Oh, right. The Pinnacle Chip. For a moment he'd almost forgotten about it. He wondered if he could think thoughts to the Chip like he used to with Freak…?

_Yes, Dexter. I am aware of what you were thinking. Which is why I want to ask—_

"It doesn't matter," Dexter muttered quickly as he walked, head down, into a nearby Radio Shack as Freak and Steph's figures rounded the corner several blocks away. "It's fine. He's happy like this, so…why, why do I have to be the one to break him—_them,_ like this?"

_Dexter. You are feeling like a….fourth wheel?_

"Third. But thank you for labeling it, that makes it so much better." He grumbled out loud and earned a look from the man behind the counter. So Dex stepped quietly to what appeared to be one of the more empty aisles, grabbed a pair of headphones randomly off the wall just to have _something_ to look at, and…

Stopped dead.

"Why fancy meeting you here Dexter!" said a strange, large brain in an even larger hat.

"H-hi…Lobe." Super villain or not, the whole exposed brain thing was always a little unsettling up close. Dexter swallowed and tried to hide his grimace as worry arched up his spine. "Uh…how are you doing?" because it seemed like the right thing to say, and anyway, the Lobe hadn't pulled out a laser on him yet, plus there were _people_ around, so Dex was probably safe.

The Lobe leaned over a display of light bulbs and appeared to select one at random.

"Oh fine Dexter, just fine, and you? How's life treating you as a normal _human,_ eh, Mister Douglas?"

Dexter froze, looking around surreptitiously the small store to see if any of the other shoppers were within hearing range. No one was. "How did you—"

"My boy, anyone with _half_ a brain can tell you're not yourself. Shame, really," the Lobe put back the 700 watt light bulbs with great care. "Hasn't been anyone around to chase me for several weeks, it's been a boring time, I tell you. And above everything, I loathe boredom."

"Yeah, well, trust me, it's been nothing but boring this week for me. I envy you." And Dexter found himself speaking truthfully to the villain, because it seemed like the Lobe understood, or was pretending to, at least. Either way it was someone to talk to about his problems other than Roddy or Freakazoid.

"Oh has it? Not what you expected was it? Tiring?"

"I…a little."

"I do miss the Freakazoid," the Lobe said a bit wistfully, staring off into space for a second.

And before he could stop himself, Dexter whispered to the headphones still in his hand. "Me too." He missed the long, hard look the Lobe gave him, but after several moments the villain finally cleared his throat and took the headphones from Dex's fingers and put them back. He spoke quietly to Dex as he guided him toward the back of the store.

"You know, I'm honestly surprised the Freakazoid's not off his rocker any more than usual. What with you not there, what's keeping him from going insane without your humanity to balance him out—"

_Dexter. He knows._

'_What do I do!'_ The geek thought frantically as the Lobe inspected a screwdriver idly.

_Get ready to run when I—_

"Now this is going to sound quite crazy, Dexter, but I, as your alter ego's enemy-because you know, boy, you are not my concern and I am not yours-am going to ask something you're going to find quite odd in a few moments."

Dexter paused, putting the Chip's words momentarily on hold, curiosity overriding his common sense for once. The Lobe sounded…well, he sounded different. Not so evil, he sounded serious.

"…What is it?"

"There are two armed men outside the doors of this fine establishment, you see—" When he saw Dexter tense up all over again he spoke quicker, quieter. "And I can assure you they are not mine."

"Then whose—" Dexter's harsh whisper was cut off by the brain glancing at him purposefully.

"Oh, I think you'll know well enough when you see the Apex Company logos on their shirts." At Dexter's terrified intake of breath, the Lobe grimaced and continued. "Yes….It's him. Now, we're going to walk to the back of the store and look at the fine smartphones they have available."

_Dexter. You need to get to the Freakazoid._

"I…okay…" he was lead meandering through the aisles until they stopped at the rack; to Dexter's immediate right was a closed door that said 'Exit.'

"My! What a lovely selection, look this one comes in purple!" The Lobe ran his hands over the side of the phone as Dexter stood there and felt awkward, a growing sense of panic in his stomach.

"You know what I love about these things? So sleek, so face, so _intelligent_…" The Lobe turned his back to Dexter. Dex's eyes flicked to the door. "They'll do anything you ask of them, they **RUN** for hours at a time too…"

Dexter Douglas didn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

The door shut behind him, and as he sprinted down the stairs, the bells at the front door of the shop tinkled.

The Lobe whistled and headed past the armed men as they angrily interrogated the frightened man at the front desk about whether he'd seen a small mousey boy come in or leave.

"Thing about such fancy cell phones, is that one still has to _buy time _for them," the genius villain mused as he headed on his way.

_**F!**_

Dexter was pretty sure the Nerdator was onto something when he'd tried to take all the nerds, put them in one place and suck out all their brains. But mostly, he also knew that uncoordinated geeks like him weren't that good at running. That one thought was in his mind as he clambered along the old brick walls that the door from Radio Shack had led him out to.

Great, this was just _great_…if the Lobe had been telling the truth, then he was helping Dexter and Dex was blowing the precious time he had to get to Freak by stumbling along this dumb alley and the maze of other alleys behind it.

"Nah-ah, Douglas."

Dexter tripped over something in his path and went sprawling into trash cans in the back of path he was in. He had only a second to focus on the dull pain the collision had brought his body into before something hard collided with his back and knocked the wind and words out of him. A rough hand grabbed the back of his shirt and hefted him up, clamping a hand over his mouth and gripping painfully tight. The boy's struggles lessened marginally when a low voice hissed in his ear.

"Is that anyway to greet an old amigo, running from them like that? Come my boy….much to do and little time to do it."

That's why nerds weren't good at escaping. No coordination, you know.

_**F!**_

Freakazoid was about halfway through his papaya smoothie, and starting to wonder where Dexter was, when a nervous tingle in the back of his mind started up. Dexter hadn't given a solid time frame for his return, hadn't said "ten or fifteen minutes" specifically, but... but Dex had spoken like he'd only be held up for a moment. Twenty minutes was not a moment, Freakazoid knew. This tingle that had started up did not let him focus very well on Steph's words, but rather washed his brain out and filled it with white noise.

It did, however, pause long enough for him to notice Roddy walking up to Mike's smoothie stand. "Roddy? What's up?" Freak greeted him brightly as his mentor approached him and Steph.

"I…lad, this isn't easy, but…" Freak blinked, something crawling up the back of his neck. Those bells that usually warned him about Dexter? …Those bells were starting to go off.

"Dexter's been taken."

Freak's knees gave out and he crashed to the pavement, breath sucked from his chest, it felt like it was crushing him, those three words. Steph's hand flew to her mouth, "Oh!" she squeaked.

"H-how….how did…._who_?" She finally demanded, and Freak gave her credit. Even though she didn't like Dexxy in THAT way…it was easy to see she still thought of him as a friend at least.

"Gutierrez, says an…old friend o'mine." Roddy glowered at the pavement. "Just now we think, last person who saw him was the Lobe in some electronics store. Cosgrove's got half the station on lookout for him, checking all his old haunts—everyone's looking."

"The store he went in without us…" The girl gasped, feeling awful. "You don't think the Lobe could've—" Steph stopped at Roddy's head shaking.

"Nay, lass, the Lobe's come clean. He's not done much villianing since the Freak 'disappeared.'"

"This…is my fault," Freak realized dumbly as he stared at the cracks in the sidewalk. "This is all my fault."

Steph didn't move from where she kneeled next to him. "Freak, don't blame yourself, it wasn't—"

"Don't say that, Steph," Freak's head was down, his eyes covered by his hair as he stared at the ground. "Don't lie to make me feel better."

"I wasn't—!"

But Roddy above them cut her off with a shake of his head and that got her attention. "The lad's not going to think any different Steph. He can't. It's in his programming."

"His programming…?"

Freakazoid stopped listening at that point. What did it matter? He'd_ failed. _He'd let down the one person on this earth he needed more than anything. Dexter had given up everything, just for Freakazoid, ever since they'd met. He'd given up his hope at ever being normal, even though normal is what Dex _must_ have desperately wanted. He gave up his body, his mind, so Freakazoid could live inside of him. And after two years, after two whole damn years, how did Freakazoid repay Dexter? By letting his human fall into the hands of their arch-enemy.

'_Gutierrez…he was right.'_ Freakazoid was a good-for-nothing parasite. Or at least he used to be. Now he was nothing, no powers, no immeasurable strength or speed. He couldn't protect Dexter. He thought he was made for Dexter, and he couldn't protect them.

'_But Gutierrez…' _And then Freak's mind pinpointed on a single idea. '_…had been the one to take Dexter in the __**first**__ place.' _And he knew this was same man who would have no qualms about killing Dexter to get what he wanted, he'd almost done it before, so long ago, back on Christmas.

Freakazoid had to get him back.

But, as the tremble up his spine told him, the way his hair hung in his face now, and the black circle on his chest reminded him again for the thousandth time…Freakazoid didn't HAVE any powers know with which to save Dexter. He wasn't a parasite anymore because there was nothing to take from anyone, and now he was inadequate, powerless.

Freakazoid blinked at the thought that fluttered across his mind. He caught it, held on to it, and blinked again. Wait a minute…no, he wasn't powerless. He still had…Dexter still said he was a hero. They could take his powers away…but they couldn't take away how to throw a punch. And Freak definitely knew how to do that.

And they most certainly couldn't take _him_ away either.

"Remember when you asked me what I wanted to do for Dexter, Steph?" He didn't notice the way her hand jumped on his shoulder when he finally addressed her. Roddy had stopped midsentence and was looking at him too.

"Freak…"

"And I said I just wanted to him to be okay? Do you remember?"

"I…yes."

"So that's what I'm gonna do. That's all I can do." Freakazoid mumbled, heaving himself to his feet and straightening his spine up to his full height. If he looked brave on the outside, maybe his friends wouldn't suspect how he felt so weak on the inside.

"Freakazoid! Where are you going?" Steph gasped, realization dawning on her. Freak turned away so he wouldn't see the fear—fear for him—in her pretty eyes.

"Oh Freak you _can't_—! You could die like this!" Freak didn't see Roddy come up behind Steph and lay his hand on her shoulder, quietly shushing her with a shake of his head.

"…without Dexter…" Freak lowered his shoulder and stepped down the sidewalk, raising his voice so they could hear him as they headed off. "I already am dead."

_**F!**_

_Dexter, duck in there….now._

A large crate weighing at least ten times Dexter skidded past him as he flattened himself into a small space the Chip had pointed. The Chip always sounded calm, but at this point Dex was freaking out!

'Why am I always running from things!' he thought frantically as he ran deeper into the warehouse. 'And where the heck is the exit!'

_To your left…but locked, most likely. Gutierrez is a clever human._

'Oh, please don't give him any credit, he's a fruitloop.' Dex whined mentally as he headed in a random direction he prayed his arch enemy wasn't in.

'Why is he doing this in the first place! What can he possibly gain—

_If too much physical or mental harm comes to you, it might trigger the bug in Freakazoid. _

Dexter came to a screeching halt and, seeing he was alone in the expansive building, quietly spoke out. "And that would be…"

_Very bad. _

"Yeah, well, it's not my idea of a picnic either." Dex muttered as he fixed his glasses and glanced around warily around the darkened warehouse.

_Be strong Dexter. I cannot aid you against this enemy._

Dex swallowed at that, pressing his back against the wall in a feeble attempt to vanish from sight. "W-why not?"

_He is not the error in Freakazoid. He is not my target. _

"Well, that's okay…it's just…"

_What is it?_

"I think I'm **HIS** target!" Dex yelped as the wall exploded from where he'd just ducked away from.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes: Can I just say I love all of you for sticking this far with me? "This one goes out to the one I love…" Final shout out to my beta pointyears, who is an angel sent from Word Heaven so I don't post horrible shit for you to read. Enjoy the second to last installment, this ones on us.**

"_**A 404 error is a common website error message that indicates a page cannot be found. Regardless of the appearance, a 404 error means the server is up and running, but the webpage or path to the webpage is not valid."**_

_**Chapter 11**_

"_...and there's no guarantee, that this will be easy. It's not a miracle ya need, believe me. Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me…but I will love you endlessly. Wings aren't what you need, you need me." –The Cab_

It was just like Gutierrez to pick an old hideout—because Cosgrove and his men had assumed the CEO wouldn't be stupid enough to go back to the old storage buildings down by the docks on the Washington Channel. Reverse psychology; hide in the most obvious place imaginable. Freakazoid knew better.

Freakazoid wasn't sure if knowing exactly where to find his archenemy made him clever or just as insane _as _his archenemy, but at this point he was so angry and scared for Dexxy he couldn't bring himself to care about something as trivial as his sanity.

The door wasn't even locked.

That wasn't a good sign.

Because for one thing, it meant Gutierrez didn't _need_ to lock the door to prevent any stray Dexxies from escaping. Secondly, it meant that Freakazoid didn't have the element of surprise-he was _expected_ to show up.

_Nut bunnies. _"…Dexter?" He tried thinking of a good opening line to shout as he burst through the door, but found a loud call for his other half to be the first thing to slip through his lips.

"Ah, Freakazoid, my old friend…" The voice was unmistakable, and Freakazoid's blood ran cold. "How nice of you to join us! And so lickety-split, too."

Freakazoid whirled around, seeing no one, the weenie's voice echoing everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Gutierrez!" His voice came out as a harsh bark, though he hadn't meant it to. But that's good. It's time for intimidation, cause God knows Freak didn't have much else going for him. "Gimme back Dexter!" he shouted, and for good measure he added "or else!"

A pause.

"…And what would this 'else' be, dear Freakazoid?" The voice centralized behind him from one of the darkest corners and Freakazoid whirled around, sneakers squeaking.

It served as just one more reminder that he was going up against his arch enemy as a 100-percent meat popsicle. He wasn't even armed with so much as a baseball bat. No powers. No nothing.

Not even Dexxy.

"That's what I thought. You see, Freakazoid? Take away your powers and what are you? Nothing! How does it feel?"

Freakazoid's spine straightened, his hands became fists at his sides. "Give. Him. Back. This doesn't involve him!" Freak bit back, not adding the world 'please' that threatened to come forth. This was beyond pleading and, as Freak's eyes darted around for any sign of his other half, his desperation grew.

"You know, at least when you had the boy on the physical plane, he was of some comfort, wasn't he? A semblance, a shred of your humanity to cling to like a log in a swollen river, was he not?"

Freakazoid just fixed him with a glare and stuck his chin out stubbornly, trying to ignore Gutierrez's words.

"But now…you couldn't even keep _him,_ could you? It's sad, really, because I… and even Roddy MacStew…we do _not_ have your problem, do we? _We_ are not bogged down by weakling, worthless humans—"

"SHUT _UP!_" Freak finally snapped. "He's NOT a weakling, he's not worthless, and I am _so sick_of everyone, everyone—ragging on him! He's my other half—and you're just _jealous,_ that's why you tried to take him from me, that's why…" Freakazoid trailed off lamely at the older man before him laughing. He paused and Gutierrez wiped a tear from his remaining good eye.

"…_T__ried,_ dear Freakazoid? I do not try. I only…" In a whirl of electricity the villain vanished. Freak tensed right back up, fists up defensively. "_Succeed._"

A strangled cry, and then nothing. Silence. Freakazoid turned slowly, cautiously, just in time to see Gutierrez to drop the body of his human half out of the shadows, where apparently he'd been held. He watched, wide-eyed, as the small form landed on the ground. Time seemed to stand still for Freakazoid as he watched and waited for the form on the ground to stir. Yet it remained motionless.

All Freakazoid wanted to do was rush over, pull Dexter into his arms, but he couldn't. Gutierrez had the upper hand and if Freak made any sort of move, then...

Gutierrez laughed; quietly at first, and then louder. "Oh, look at your _querido _now, Freakazoid. And you can't even touch him." Gutierrez's laughs fade out. "Ah, but it would be cruel to not allow you to say your final goodbyes, would it not?"

Freakazoid shakes, fists curled tightly. He can't take his eyes off of the motionless body of his Dexter Douglas, the body that was lying limp on the cold, hard ground.

"Make your last words count," Gutierrez chuckles, and then disappears from sight.

Freakazoid was at Dexter's side in under two seconds, voice shaking hard. "Dexxy? Wake up, now." He dropped to his knees and shook the boy's shoulder gently, trying to rouse the still geek lying before him. He couldn't be dead, surely Gutierrez was lying, wasn't he? His motions became increasingly more urging when his actions failed to gain anything at all, except to turn Dexter slightly on his side, his head falling to the floor with a soft sound.

"Dexter, now, wa-wake u-up. C'mon, Dex…" his voice choked, and he shut his mouth.

As he got closer he noticed that Dexter's chest was only just barely rising. A small flame of hope stirred in his lower stomach as he kneeled down beside his other half.

Freakazoid looked closer at his body and was able to see the damage Gutierrez had done. There were bruises, either from hits or punches, or from scrapes Dexter might have endured when he'd tried to escape and had been pushed into the brick and stone walls around them. His glasses were barely hanging on, but one lens was missing and the other delicately cracked right in the center. There was bruising on his throat, his thin, too-white neck…when Dexter must have tried to scream to Freakazoid to help him, the former CEO had appeared to strangle him to silence him. Dex must have already been too weak from the pain to fight him way away from the crushing grip that the man had had on his windpipe.

"God, D-Dexxy, no….please, _no_." This wasn't right, this shouldn't be happening! He shouldn't be so—he shouldn't be so injured, just from—just from being hit, should he?

Softly, gently, Freakazoid wiped the bangs that were covering Dexter's face to the side. It was this gentle motion that _finally_ got a response from the crumpled body. Slowly Dexter's eyelids began to move, and then he opened his eyes. He flicked his faded brown eyes over to Freak lazily, and for a second Freak thought he saw dizzy vertigo flash in the geek's eyes.

"F-Freak," he whispered to him, but it obviously hurt him to talk. He flinched, even at that quiet word.

"Hey," Freak said to him, as he caressed his face gently, "Don't talk buddy, it's okay, it's gonna be okay." Freak swallowed after those words, as if to take back the lie he'd just uttered.

He _wasn't_ a hero anymore, and things _weren't _okay.

And the trouble was that, even as he spoke, Freakazoid could see Dexter's strength slipping away. It was crushing and paralyzing to watch. Freakazoid didn't realize he was crying until he saw tears in Dexter's eyes slip down the side of his face a little.

The logical part of Freakazoid knew that Dexter was dying even as he touched him. He could tell from the way the bruises were spreading and deepening in color by the moment. He was bleeding on the inside. He could tell from the way that the already-pale Dexter was losing color. His bones had been broken, his body destroyed, arteries severed without so much as a knife getting anywhere near him. He was broken beyond belief, beyond the lines any normal human could hope to live through—and Dexter was fully human and fully normal now; he had no Freakazoid to protect him from the inside out.

However, the other part of this superhero, the part that had always been ruled by his emotions, refused to believe it. It told him that if he just kept touching him, and reassuring him, that Dexter—and everything else—would be okay.

He could be Dexter's lifeline; it worked for Freakazoid, didn't it? It would work both ways.

"Don't cry, Dexxy, please," Freakazoid whispered to Dexter, as he gently stroked one of those tears away. "L-let's get you out of here, okay? Get outside and out of the dark, yeah?" He kept speaking quietly even as he scooped the boy up and headed outside, not even thinking about Gutierrez, not even noticing when no one and nothing stopped him.

This action of carrying his little geek simply made more tears slide from those foggy eyes; oh, god, it must hurt him-and Freak just wiped more away, trying to be soothing even as the anxiety in his chest threatened to spread and paralyze him. He moved outside and into the fresh air and lowered Dex gently back onto the ground, trying to keep him awake and responsive.

It occurred faintly to Freakazoid that the dark clouds above them had become saturated with rain and were now starting to let a few of its own tears forth to fall upon them, and on the earth.

How fitting. Almost as if it'd been planned that way.

"Freak…azoid. I'm sorry," came a final hushed whisper to Freak's ears, so faint and weak and _so Dexter_ that it made Freakazoid's heart ache in his chest.

"No, no don't be, buddy, you don't have any reason to be, this wasn't your fault, okay? Dexter, Dexter, please." Freakazoid rambled when he got scared. "You're gonna be okay, okay? I'll take care of you, please, just stay awake for me….I…I lo—"

…and Dexter Douglas' eyes closed and his head tipped to the side. Freakazoid saw that chest came to a halt, and the once superhero clambered for a pulse at Dexter's wrist immediately. There wasn't one, not even a pretense of one. Silence. His own heart sped up as he starred at the now lifeless face in shock. The rain was coming down just a little harder now, Freak's voice still louder than the _pit! pat!_ of falling rain.

"Dexter?" he asked, as he leaned over the body, "Dexter! No, nonono, s-stay with me, you gotta stay, I need you—" Freak heard his words end in a strangled sob, his entire body shaking. He grabbed a hold of thin shoulders and began shaking him slightly, trying to wake the kid. When he got no response, he pulled him close to his form, holding on to the ever-growing cold body for dear life. His sobs turned into a fit of spine-shaking tears. He kept trying to whisper to him, but his tears kept getting in the way. He had to keep his eyes closed as he rocked both Dexter's body back and forth.

"…Y-you can't go, you can't. Dexter Douglas, I-I need you," and then Freak's mind took a turn another direction, "F-freak in, **freak** **in**, c'mon, I gotta save you…"

It didn't work. Freakazoid wasn't surprised.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his tiny geek's destroyed body. He felt his heart not just break, but crush from the sight of his broken human side. As his despair grew, it mixed with another emotion that was burning just as hotly. Anger grew into fury as his eyes drank up the sight of the wounds that covered Dexter's body. Wounds Dexter had had to suffer through because of Freakazoid's inaction, because of Gutierrez's actions, because of hundreds of reasons Freakazoid's brain was filtering through. None of them were acceptable, suddenly, and Freakazoid's mind went blank.

Anger.

Dexter Douglas was dead, so Freakazoid was now, too.

He literally had nothing to lose.

Gutierrez chuckled, oblivious to the oncoming storm as he sauntered out of the building and stared down at the two.

"Sorry to state the obvious," he says lightly, "but he's dead. He's really dead! At long last, my revenge is complete! Dexter Douglas is dead and gone!" The ex-CEO cried. "That is what happens to those who dare attempt to foil the plans of Armando Gutierrez!"

He glanced back to Freakazoid's kneeling form, a horrible, sadistic grin upon his face, his robotic eye glinting in the light. "How does it feel, Freakazoid? To have come so close, only to _fail! _You didn't come soon enough, and now your other half is dead! Do you feel pain? Grief? Guilt? Despair?"

Freak just remained silent, shadows falling over his face so one could not catch his expression, though his entire body stiffened.

"You see, my dear, dear Freakazoid? **Nothing** good comes to those who oppose me. I don't care if you're strong as an ox or weaker than a bunny rabbit-you're friend here activated my chip and gained powers that should have been rightfully _mine,_ and look what it got him. He opposed me and now he can no longer... deal with it. Or anything else."

The hero's hands clenched around Dexter's lithe frame. "That's what this was all about? Revenge?" He whispered, finally seeming to find his voice. "You took his life for—for revenge?"

Gutierrez's words had sliced open something deep, deep inside of him, making Freakazoid feel an odd rush of power he hadn't felt since before his powers were taken from him. Losing Dexter was quite possibly—no, definitely the most painful thing Freakazoid could have possibly ever endured.

A sudden chill had washed over him while at the same time his vision tunneled into near darkness. It was as if a tight cord had been tied to his chest and had suddenly snapped, the recoil sending him stumbling. But he could tell that cord had been connected to something, or someone, very dear to him, and to have it suddenly gone hurt like a physical blow. It was as if something had been torn from his chest, from his heart. He couldn't _see_ straight. He couldn't _think_ straight.

Everything was _Wrong._

Something else in the dark clouds above them started gathering. It crackled. It fizzled and it glowed with white, hot energy. White gloves twitched and then balled into tight fists that were slowly starting to lift. The wind picked up out of nowhere and circled around his body, whipping his stringy hair in wisps, and for a second you could believe it was standing up like it used too.

Lightning struck—not the ground, not from cloud to cloud. Lightning struck _Freakazoid, _and Freakazoid didn't so much as _flinch_.

And Freakazoid howled over the thunder as the sky opened up above the towering body and the unmoving one. Thunder clapped and lightning speared into that standing body as if it was drawn directly to Freakazoid's heart. Freakazoid lifted his face to the sky, his black hair plastered back by the onslaught of rain. The white bolts in his hair were glowing just as sharply were his red eyes. There were no pupils, just the red, fiery rage of someone who'd lost it all, mixed with the cold calculating logic of a computer that didn't have to answer to reason anymore.

Everything. Was. _Wrong. _

_Wrong_ took the driver's seat.

_**F!**_

Dexter groaned, trying to decipher the foggy sounds filtering through his ears. What-what was that sound? What was happening? He'd thought…a moment ago... he'd felt so tired, so dizzy, but now…now the Chip was forcing him to wake up and hadn't let him go near that bright light.

He rolled over onto his back as his vision cleared a bit, despite his semi-broken glasses, he wasn't blind. He could see the tall form of Freakazoid looming over him, though he had to crane his head up to fully see the teen's face.

And what he saw caused fear to flood his veins and burn as cold as liquid nitrogen.

Freakazoid was looking pointedly down. Not at Dexter, rather at the gravel below him. But his gaze was eerily vacant, his pupils smaller than normal. The rest of his expression was nearly blank, his eyebrows slack and his eyelids lowered. It was his lips that were the frightening thing. They were moving; dramatically twitching down and sideways, like Freakazoid couldn't decide if he was happy or sad. But behind this mouth Dexter saw Freak's tightly gritted teeth, and shuddered. The rest of the teen's posture was tense and quivering. A streak of lightning crackled around his body in a graceful arc, ending at his feet.

Freak let out a noise between a whimper and a moan, never blinking, as wind surged around them, lifting Freak's limp black hair into fluid motions, his shirt flapping and the white lightning streaks in his hair began to stand out starkly compared to his pitch black hair. Some of the strands lifted, poised in the air as shadows fell over Freak's face.

Even though Dexter had never seen anything like it, he could feel what was happening, and he could tell it was very, _very _bad. For_ all_ of them.

"Freak…" Dexter mumbled, trying to get to his feet but finding his body too weak to stand for him, letting him only shift and brace himself against with a hand tentatively against Freak's jeans. Freak did not acknowledge the touch at all, at first.

Then he _jerked_ away from Dexter's touch, snarling. Dexter flinched back with a small gasp of disbelief. Freakazoid never—!

Lightning struck and thunder rumbled above them.

Freakazoid starting chuckling. Then he was laughing, then, God, Dexter cringed at the laughs pouring from his best friend's mouth. Those weren't noises any animal should ever make.

"F-Freakazoid! You're losing control, you've_ got_ to calm down! Fr-" His alter ego only contained to laugh darkly, a sadistic grin stretching his face to creepy proportions. His irises had gone from slits to nothing but now impossibly wide scarlet glowing sockets.

Gutierrez gasped as he was pushed violently back, either by the windstorm coursing around them, or the wild waves of energy Freakazoid was giving off, Dexter couldn't be sure.

All he did know was that, that the Chip's worse fears had been confirmed. Freakazoid thought he was…dead. No Dexter. And no Dexter meant…ohgod.

"How is this possible, you—you should be powerless!" The villain a couple feet away gasped out, trying to regain his footing as the ground gave one long shudder beneath him. Cement shoved up into slates of broken stone as spider webs of cracking ground arced from Freak and over to him. They curled around Dexter and widened at Gutierrez's feet. He stepped back, dumbfounded.

Freak turned his burning gaze to Gutierrez, raising his hands high above his head as lighting sliced the air around his palms. Without warning he flew at the older man, disappearing in a streak of electricity, only to reappear behind Gutierrez and slam him into the ground with a tackle. The ground caved in on itself from where their bodies landed.

"_Let's…wrestle."_ Freakazoid's voice had drastically dropped down to a low, snakelike hiss. It sounded like he was growling more than speaking, and the voice alone was enough to make shivers crawl up Dexter's spine. It sounded like he was struggling to talk through his rage, though his voice was easily heard.

Gutierrez struggled to free himself, but Freak's grasp looked painfully strong, his muscles rippling with pent-up energy as he held the man down with apparent ease. He dug a fist into Gutierrez's spine, smile growing at the howl of pain his victim let out, and pulled back the man's right arm, not relenting until the sound of his shoulder parting with its socket was heard.

He flipped the man over and retained his grasp on Gutierrez, laughing like a manic all the while. _"I've…got an…idea!" h_e managed to choke out through bared teeth. Freakazoid laughed as if he'd just heard the best joke in years. _"You wanted…this power…so…take it."_ A horrible, demonic sort of grin came to his face as his fists clenched around the surging energy waves. He slammed them into the Spanish man's chest, right over where his heart would be. His hair shot up into its flyaway style as lightning sizzled the air and thunder crashed, and the ground continued to shake and shatter randomly around them.

"_Let's see how __**you**__ deal with it!"_

The wind howled and roared, knocking into Dexter with such force he could barely stand up. It seemed like Freak was being true to his words, the whole of the internet was at his command now, and it was leaking out and wreaking havoc on Gutierrez every time it came in contact with him.

And then lightning struck again, straight down Freakazoid's center, and when the electric shocks had ceased Dexter could see that he had turned _blue again._ He'd regained his blue, all his powers were back just like they were and—and Gutierrez was as good as dead unless Dexter could do something.

"Freak…Freak, _no,_" Dexter whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, but he was powerless to stop what was happening and he knew it.

_That is not Freakazoid, Dexter. Do not be fooled by his appearance. Freakazoid is not in control._ The Chip reminded gently in the back of his head.

"N-no kidding…" Dex tried to get to his feet, knees shaking. "How do I help him, tell me!" he called out, not even bothering thinking his thoughts, he was too desperate. No answer came, and Dexter's anxiousness doubled.

"Please! There has to be someone way, anyway, he's not going to stop till he, he kills him!"

_...Armando Gutierrez almost did the same to you, why do you want to save your arch enemy?_

"Nobody deserves to die!" Dexter finally screams, swaying to his feet, the wind angling around him somehow—his powers?

_Dexter Douglas._

"…Y-yes…?"

_Good answer. Here is the plan._

_**F!**_

In a blur of electric rage, Freakazoid 2.0 sped across the street toward the place he'd thrown Gutierrez seconds before. The muffled moan of pain that met his sharp ears was a nice sound—but not the screaming for pity he was hoping for. Well, that was okay.

He'd just give it a little more energy, maybe.

"That…wasn't a move to kill," Gutierrez grunted as he hefted himself from the wreckage of the debris, Freak 2.0 tossing aside a piece of wall carelessly.

"…_Of course not. I wasn't aiming to kill, sweetheart,_" Freakazoid 2.0 purred and kept his even pace, stalking closer as Gutierrez tried to get up and away. But with Gutierrez's dislocated shoulder and broken bones, he had no chance. "_What you did to my human? I'm gonna do triple to you, you stupid fuck. I'm gonna pay ya back in—_" he paused a moment to throw another punch into Gutierrez's jaw, grinning when a tooth flew out along with some lovely blood, "_spades_." He spit on the body, grabbing Gutierrez by his shirt and tugging him up—only to send him spine first twenty feet into a car.

But before Gutierrez could hope to regain anything, Freakazoid 2.0 was there, lifting him up, not even winded, not even breathing hard. He was _grinning._

"_Let's see how you like it, bastard."_ He coiled long fingers around Gutierrez's throat and HELD there, sneering. "_Maybe your head'll pop off? That'd be neat, wouldn't it? Just like a balloon…._" Last minute he changed his mind and opted for letting the wheezing man get a gulp of precious air. Those scrabbling hands did little to make him let go at any rate other than his own.

This was too easy. He punched Gutierrez's spine and watched him fall to the ground and lie there. The Freakazoid's face twisted into a snarl as he looked at his opponent's unmoving form "_Get up, Gutierrez._" He hissed. "_I know you aren't dead yet. __**Get up!**_"

"...Heh. As you wish, _amigo_—" Gutierrez was only on his knees, wheezing and holding his side with the most broken ribs before Freak swooped in and lunged upward several stories, throwing Gutierrez down onto the rooftop of the warehouse where Dexter had been kept. Lightning pierced the dark sky and light up Freak's glowing red eyes as they narrowed dangerously.

The former CEO grunted and tried to sit up. "So….taking the boy from you—"

"_Was a bad life choice,_" Freak cut in, snarling.

He landed, light as a cat, on the roof and stepped forward, pausing only once on his way to Gutierrez to lean down for a second and pick up a choice piece of glass from the remains of some of the glass sun lights he'd destroyed when throwing his prey against them.

Gutierrez didn't get back up this time, but he was still alive, still conscious.

That was good enough for Freakazoid.

Freak reached back, arching the fist with the glass pointed down high in the air, preparing to drive it straight down and _end this forever_—

"_FREAK!"_

The glass stopped just before it could puncture Gutierrez's clothing. And it took everything Freakazoid possibly had to mechanically haul his eyes up and away and turn his neck just a bit to look over his shoulder to see…

"…Dex…" he breathed out, eyes wide.

Dexter Douglas, standing not more than seven feet from him, panting hard and eyes glowing, a strong blue glow engulfing his eyes.

Wrong got pushed to shotgun.

Freakazoid blinked big eyes, eyebrows knitting together. "..Dexxy?" he called tentatively, as if this was a mirage that would vanish if he looked too hard through it.

"Yeah Freak, it's me. It's me." And oh god, Freak doesn't remember hearing that soothing voice from Dexxy much in his life, but right now it's more welcoming than if God himself had appeared before them. Freak finds himself standing up slowly, straightening, facing his other half.

"Dex, you…I thought you…" he gestured helplessly for a second, floundering. Slowly the blue began to fade, draining from his skin to be replaced with tan.

Dexter smiled—and god, it was the most beautiful thing Freak had ever seen—and nodded a little. "I didn't leave, Freakazoid. I stayed…and I said you could stay too, right? I said you could stay…"

"Forever." Warmth washed over his spine and Freak's lips tried to lift into a weak grin, closing his eyes happily. "Yeah, you promised I could stay forever."

Dexter nodded and took a shaky step forward, arms out and hands out, placating. "Forever. I-I need you, Freakazoid. T-that's why you gotta calm down, okay? Heroes don't kill. And you're my hero."

"…I, _Dexxy_, you too. Yer mine too, Dex." Freak's tired, happy smile grew, fresh happiness starting to cool the volcanic anger burning in him.

"Well, isn't that wonderful? A happy ending." Gutierrez sneered from behind Freakazoid, Dexter's hard work unraveling in the span of two seconds, several syllables. "Your other half lives, and everything's perfect…right?"

Freak's arm came up to effortlessly block the blow aimed to punch him in the back. Freakazoid then easily spun around to counter the blow and sent Gutierrez sprawling to the ground once again. He didn't even need powers to do that; Gutierrez was so weak. His free hand still held a shard of window glass, a perfect edge.

"Yeah. Except for one little detail you forgot." Freakazoid growled as he pointed the shard of glass once again at the other man's chest.

Gutierrez stared up at the shining shard before throwing his head back and cackling maniacally. "You really are serious about killing me, aren't you? Your _amigo_ is alive, and you still want to go through with it. If that's the case, then I won anyway _gringo_!"

Freakazoid scowled. "What are you babbling about?"

Gutierrez sneered up at the computer glitch, reaching up to grab Freak's bloodied, gloved hand and pulling it closer, blood seeping into the black of his gloves. "Go on then, _mi amigo_. Kill me. Take your revenge for your _alma gemelo_. After all I made him suffer through, I deserve it, don't I? Well?"

The Freakazoid's eyes narrowed as the still raw memory of Dexter's cold form pulled against him ran through his mind.

Wrong grabbed control again, and the blue returned instantly, climbing back to the tips of his fingers and coloring his skin. _ANGER._ Freakazoid 2.0 yanked his hand away from Gutierrez's grip, preparing to deal the blow and send him out of the world.

Weenies like him didn't deserve to live, anyway.

"Freakazoid, I told you to STOP!"

Once again, Freakazoid paused, gritting his teeth. Dexter had run out onto the rooftop from the door meant as a fire escape for that floor. Across the rooftop there was a set of stairs that lead to the ground, which would probably be how they left.

Once he got rid of this guy, anyway. But Dexter said not to…

Freak glanced over his shoulder at Dexxy, who, despite his bright blue fizzling eyes, was shivering there in the cold, his voice still sounding incredibly weak. This was…wrong. Somehow? A little?

No it wasn't! Who cares anyway?

"Too late, Dexxy-baby…I live by my own rules now."

But Dexxy was shaking his head—like he could make Freakazoid change! Hah! "N-no, no Freak, no. You're not a killer. You're not."

"What's wrong, Freakazoid? I thought you were going to finish me?" Gutierrez sneered, drawing his attention once again. The sharpest side of glass was inches from his chest, one simple stab and it would all be over. The man who had caused this entire mess, all the pain they had all endured, would be gone.

"I…"

"Freakazoid!" And Freak whirled around in time for—

Dexxy fell against Freakazoid's chest, sucking in a deep, shaking breath as he reached out blindly to grasp fistfuls of Freak's bloodied shirt. He buried his face into it as he inhaled his best friend's scent, still shaking. Freak's strong arms reached up to hold the boy close automatically, carefully avoiding causing any damage to his mangled body as he ran his hands through the boy's brown hair.

"Freakazoid…be Freakazoid…not him." Dex murmured weakly, his voice only just barely reaching the once hero's ears.

Something sizzled against Freak's chest. His darker half, his evil half, stiffened and jerked in full control. No! He looked down, intending to push Dexter away—too late.

"_ARRRGHHHH—"_

Blue light exploded from the center of Dexter's body. They both screamed, Freakazoid 2.0 trying to get back and howling from anger and pain and shock, Dexter from only blinding pain as he expended all of his energy into a singular concussive shockwave of powerful electricity.

_FREAKAZOID 2.0, YOU ARE MALFUCTIONING, _said a voice that the both of them heard clear as a bell. _IT IS TIME FOR A RECALL._

_**F!**_

Well, _this_ was all wrong.

Dexter's pretty sure that on his list of things to do today, watching his alter ego die alongside him wasn't on that list. But here they lay on the ground, flat out exhausted and, oh yes, let's not forget the fact the shockwave had thrown Gutierrez several hundred feet back and off the side of the roof—Dex had no idea where the villain had ended up but right now that was the last thing on his mind, because, oh God, Freak was right here next to him but, but the problem was he didn't really look it and…oh…

Not to mention that there was this bright blue glowing leaking from his own small chest that wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried, and all Dexter could think of was that what happened when a star collapsed in on itself was happening to him. To _them. _They were going supernova.

Was he dying?

Were…_they___dying?

"…F-Freak…?"

No answer. Dex shuddered and rallied what little remaining strength he had left and inched closer to his alter ego, lying lengthwise alongside him, pressing into his side and laying a thin arm over Freak's torso.

"Freakazoid, _please_—"

"…D-Dexxy." The look on Freak's face said a lot more than just the tiny calling of his name, and that just made said boy lean impossibly closer—and also made the hole in his chest brighten up and spread out more. It clicked in Dexter's head then, as the circle on Freak's chest, the black spot on his t-shirt…started showing a faint outline of two familiar symbols.

Dexter gasped and tore his gaze from his superhero's chest to his tired, light blue gaze. "F-Freak, you're, I think this is it—I think we're, we're rejoining!"

As it turns out, he was right.

"I just…I'm s-scared, Dexxy, I don't—I don't want—" But Freak was having a hard time trying to find words, and even as they lay there something black started trying to grow over his eyes…oh, his mask. His mask was coming back. Even as he spoke, his converse—no, his white boots—were starting to fizzle out of the physical plane, the pull of the Chip forcing Freakazoid back inside of Dexter Douglas.

This really _was_ it, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry, Freak," Dexter murmurs quickly, desperately, "I know you wanna stay out in the real world, I didn't want it to end like this, I've failed you and I'm _so sorry-"_

"N-no, I don't wanna lose _you!"_ There on the pavement, his fingerless gloves grew back to his usual pristine white ones. His fingers twitched as if to reach for something, maybe it was Dexter.

"Lose…oh, Freak, no, I'll still be here, I will be, I'll just…" Dexter bit his lip and lowered his head on Freak's shoulder weakly. More energy crackled into the air around them. The Freakazoid's body had vanished up to his knees now. The process was slow, but not particularly painful. It was…numbing, actually, a bit relieving to be honest. The parts of the Freakazoid that Dex could no longer see were, on his body, feeling tingly as if they'd fallen asleep. "I'm so sorry…" Dexter finally whimpered out, because he really was. His fingers clenched into the latex of Freakazoid's bright red _super_ suit _ohmygod_—

"…Why, Dexxy?" Freak sounded tired as he blinked from behind his mask.

"Locking you up, you must hate me, you've got too, I just, I never wanted this to happen, not like this b-but—"

"No, Dexter."

"….What?"

"Hate you…no, I could never hate you, buddy." Freakazoid's lip twitched into a smile as his hair shot back up on end. Electricity crackled around the whiter areas of his lightning-bolted hair. His weak smile grew as he stared up at the sky.

"_I love you,_ Dexter Douglas," Freak started, sitting up just a little, gritting his teeth to force what remained of his body to move, soon he was leaning down to press their noses together. Dex had to go cross eyed to maintain eye contact, but he didn't care—the bright powerful spark in Freak's eyes was _returning,_ and it was beautiful to witness.

"B-but when we're one person again…" The timid geek breathed out softly in a final attempt to plead his case but trailed off lamely, feeling large, warm gloved hands cup both sides of his face gently.

"Dexter, we were _never_ the same person," was the last thing Dexter could remember hearing before his eyes fell closed and his entire focus narrowed down to the pressure that was suddenly on his lips.

A final crack of thunder from above, and the largest, most focused flash of light yet, and everything fizzled out in a flash of blue and red light that intermingled and vanished away, and though Dexter or Freakazoid had no way of seeing such a thing, the final image to spark into existence was the familiar, loud yellow letter and symbol of:

_**F!**_

Freak out, indeed.

And then it was over.

Freak could hear Rat Patrol playing in the background of his mind somewhere. Funny, he didn't remember leaving the TV on…

Freakazoid stood within Dexter's brain, in the tiny microscopic space _between_ their shared minds. His suit, his hair, his logo was even back. He felt the buzz of power, of electricity surging up and down his spine and his side of their shared brain. It felt…it was wonderful. Everything about him was back to normal—which meant he was very much un-normal and, dare he say it, _freaky_ again.

But right now…not everything was back to normal yet for _all_ of him. Freak looked down for a moment, raking his eyes over Dexter's body still tucked in his arms. The geek's head was resting against his shoulder, lashes lowered over his eyes and hands folded over his waist. His chest rose and fell slowly and Freak's arms tightened of their own accord.

"I'm so proud of you, Dexxy, thank you." he whispered after a moment down to the unconscious body nestled safely against his chest, a fond smile on his lips.

"…Now what happens?" Freakazoid looked up, addressing someone entirely different.

_Now?_ The Chip stood before them. _Now you are one person again, how you are supposed to be. This is how you were made to __**function**__._

"Oh, right. I just meant…we're not one person really, that's just what everyone thinks…" Freak muttered, furrowing his eyebrows under his mask. "I'm getting all his memories from the past few days—"

_He's getting yours, too. Do not fear. Freakazoid, Dexter's mind and body has been pushed past the point of exhaustion, but he will be fine with rest and recuperation._

"I….right." A pause. Freak chewed on his lip a moment—the boy in his arms felt really light. "You sure?"

The Chip was already starting to vanish from their mind, Freakazoid could feel it slipping over to allow room for the both of them. Freakazoid finally felt his mind slide into place alongside Dexter's, where he was meant to be and that did it. Freakazoid was _made_ for Dexter.

_I am very sure. How do you two put it…?_ The Chip's voice faded out like the twinkle of a star.

_I pinkie promise. _

Freakazoid's smile widened as he watched the Chip evaporate from Dexter's mind. Soon it was just them, just him and Dexxy, how it should be. Freak found himself staring at the closed windows of Dex's eyes, and they reminded him of certain other things. Oh, right.

Freak sighed and focused. Currently Dexter was in control, body and all, but it really was like second nature for Freak to take control of Dexxy's ears, like plugging in a headphone jack into a receiver. So what Dex was hearing, unconsciously or not, Freak was now hearing instead…

'_Dexter? Dexter!'_

'_Lad!' _

'_You cannot save him, fools—'_

Roddy. Steph. And…

Freakazoid felt something akin to hatred boil deep down in him.

There was still one itty bitty little loose end to **tie off.**

With utmost care and gentleness, Freak set his human half on the Freakazone's couch, and though he made no move, poked Dexter's side of their mind lightly but firmly, just enough to push Dex's conscious above the water and get him to talk.

"Freak, I, you, wha—" Dex mumbled groggily, trying to sit up, Freak's gloved hand pushing him back down. Dexxy needed rest.

"Shh, Dexxy we still got stuff to take care of in the real world…" Freak smiled down at his geek. "You didn't forget the magic words, did ya?"

It was Dexter's turn to smile this time, though it was faint as he flopped back down on the couch and started to drift off to not-sleep right then and there.

"Of course I didn't, Freak…" Freak waited patiently, because the real true honest to God Freakazoid never came unless he was called.

"…_**Freak out!**_"

God, that felt _good. _

Freak didn't care who saw him change this time on the physical plane, Dex said it was 'okay' and, dammit, Freak was going to make it _stay_ okay—for _good_ this time. He jerked up and narrowly avoided Steph's head—Roddy had must have know he was coming because he'd yanked Steph back just in time, must have seen Dexter's lips mouth the words as he'd laid on the pavement alone—but he wasn't alone anymore.

"F-Freakazoid!" Steph gasped and Freak hauled himself to his feet and turned in the direction he'd heard that weenie's voice come from. He cracked his knuckles and leered at his arch-enemy's battered form not twenty feet away, relishing in the feel of his old superpowered body come back better than ever.

"Hey Gutierrez…._LET'S WRESTLE!"_ Freakazoid boomed joyously before lunging upon the villain.

God it felt good to see that man flinch, just before Freakazoid reeled back with his fist and drove it forward, sending him FLYING.

Yeah, he was mad. But he wasn't _enraged. _This was Freakazoid 1.0. The original, the one-and-only. And now there definitely isn't any room for anyone in their shared mind but them.

"Aye, lad, way ta get'im! Give him another fer me!"

And really, his friends being there, cheering him on, only served to fuel the Freak more, finishing off Gutierrez was easier than eating pie, easier than playing the first level of PlacerRacer! Easier than—

Freakazoid grinned as he heard a warm, happy laugh in the back of his head and he automatically jerked his hand out to grab onto—

Air.

Freakazoid blinked. Standing above Gutierrez's unconscious body in the middle of the eye of a storm, Stephanie and his mentor a safe distance away, and it was then Freakazoid realized that laughter had come from in his head.

That happy laugh had come from Dexter, who no longer was with him like this and, oh.

_Oh_.

Freakazoid smiled, a little sadly, had anyone been paying attention, his hand dropping to his side. He probably looked really crazy reaching out to grab no one, didn't he?

Crazy wasn't that bad.

After a few moments the Freak backed up from his arch enemy's body and turned to Roddy and Steph, who were both giving him puzzled but kind looks.

"Let's…" He had no reason to be out here anymore—but Dexter wasn't ready yet to maintain a conscious mind and physical body. Freak looked down at his super suit, eyes staying on the _F!_ symbol on his chest a little too long.

"Go home, you guys," he murmured.

They'd won.

No more villain. In any sense of the word.


	12. Epilogue

"_When it hurts more than it shows  
__It's not the easiest of roads,__  
__No, it's never black and white__  
__And you can keep your happy life..."_

Fredric Zoid was dead.

A tragic, mistimed skiing accident.

Dreadful.

A funeral was being held today. Bright, and sunny, soft wind…perfect weather for the death of someone who was never supposed to exist in the first place. Of course, he did, and it happened, and now Dexter Douglas stood there quietly in the aftermath of it all, in his best suit among the mourners and the people who remembered him fondly. They said he was too young. They said he was silly to ski alone.

_They_ being everyone who thought they knew Fredric Zoid best of all, no matter who it was that was speaking.

Dexter didn't mind, in fact Dexter listened quietly and nodded at the parts he was supposed and shook hands that were presented to him. His parents were around, making much the same remarks as everyone else—"Too young," "Sweet boy. Odd skin color…but sweet." "Dweeb."

People from school were there. Sad. Being polite.

A script to follow—Dexter followed it from the point of view of someone who'd written every word and knew every act.

Roddy stood next to Dexter, hand clasped on his shoulder when he saw a wave of emotion flicker across his charge's face. Dexter sometimes had to give him a grateful smile no one else seemed to catch.

Steph was there with her parents, of course. Had to keep up appearances. She'd said nothing but hugged him, squeezing him briefly and tightly and whispering a brief "I love you two," in his ear as she'd pulled away. Dexter had smiled a little stronger at her for that.

Cosgrove gave a small speech because he was supposed or something and mentioned Washington's super hero sending his condolences to the death of a young teen.

And Dexter Douglas? Well, Dexter Douglas walked up to the fresh ground and stood in front of the headstone for a while. He was alone. The casket under him, after all, was very much empty.

People from school…even the teachers. Gym…history…English.

Mr. Golding was one of the last people at calling hours, and he pulled Dexter quietly aside.

"Very sorry for your loss, Mister Douglas, very sorry."

"Thank you, sir."

"I just wanted to let you know you didn't have to send your essay in, did you get my email about having a few extra days for it?"

"Yes I did, sir, but I really…I really didn't want to put it off."

"Ah, well, anyway, it was, it was fantastic, Dexter, an excellent thesis on human violence. Pinker would be proud, you sounded like you spoke from the heart about your topic…" The man smiled genially and looked sympathetic.

"Well, you know what they say about violence, Mr. Golding."

"…And what is that, my boy?"

Dexter smiled a little, his newly heterochromic eyes shining, one blue, one hazel-brown. "Violence, even when well-intentioned…_always_ rebounds upon itself."

Dexter turned away at that, excused himself, and idly stepped away from the crowd. He noticed there was no one within earshot and gazed out a window. So he had no problem looking up idly at a cloud passing overhead, his lips moved but no words come out. What he mouthed is what he was thinking, and it looked suspiciously like

"Hey, Freakazoid, you wanna go get a snow cone?"

It sounded a little like "I'm sorry" and a little like "I love you too" but most of all it sounded like functionality, like a mended pathway and a new beginning.

Dexter Douglas' life is nothing close to normal. In fact, it was very much what you could reasonably call insane.

_(…DO I!)_

Maybe insane isn't so bad.

"_It's gonna be a bumpy ride.__  
__But it sure beats standing still,  
__I know we can work it out…__  
__**And I've no doubt that we will."**_

—The Hoosiers

END


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